not doe What then is man but Nothing being Evill His Lunatike affections doe unlevell What Heaven created by just Waight and measure In pleasures sinke he takes a swine like Pleasure His span of life and beauties like a Flower Faire flourishing and fading in an hower He breakes into the world with teares and then Departs with Griefe not knowing how nor when His life 's a Bubble full of seeming Blisse The more it lengthens the more short it is Begot in darknesse he 's brought forth and cries For succour passes ore the stage and dyes Yet like a Moale the earth he undermines Making the World the Forge of his designes He plots complots for esees prevents directs Hee hopes he feares he doubts pursues effects Each hath his plot each one his course doth bend Each hath his project and each one his end Thus restlesse man doth still his soule molest To finde out that which hath no being Rest Thus travels sinfull man in endlesse toyle Taking a pleasure in his owne turmoyle Fond man first seeke to purchase that divine And sacred prize and all the world is thine Great Salomon made suit for Wisdome and he found Not barely Wisdome but that Wisdome crown'd With Diadems of wealth and faire encrease Of Princely Honour with long dayes of Peace With safe respect and awfull reverence To Myst'ries Meditation doth commence An earnest doubt Was Iobs dispoiled Flock Restored double Was his former Stock Renew'd with double vantage Did heaven adde To all his fortunes double what he had Yet those sweet Emblemes of his dearest love His sonnes whom death untimely did remove From off the face of the unthankfull earth Why likewise sprang not they in double birth Bruit beasts that perish once are lost for ever Their substance and their All consumes together Once having given a farewell to the light They dye and with them is perpetuall night But man unorgan'd by the hand of Death Dyes not is but transplanted from beneath Into a fairer soyle or as a stranger Brought home secure from the worlds pleasing danger Iobs flocks were lost and therefore double given His Issue 's equall shar'd 'twixt Earth and Heaven One halfe in heav'n are glorious in their doome Ingag'd as Pledges till the other come Great God! my Time 's but short and long my way My Heart hath lost her Path and gone astray My spirit 's faint and fraile my soule 's imbost If thou helpe not I am for ever lost Though Dust and Ashes yet I am thy Creature Howe're my sinnes are great thy Mercie 's greater Of nothing didst thou make me and my sinne Hath turn'd me back to nothing once agin Create me a new heart great God inspire My cold affections with thy sacred fire Instruct my Will and rectifie my Wayes O teach me Lord to number out my Dayes The Digestion of the whole HISTORY 1 In Prosperity THou whose lank fortunes heav'n hath swel'd with store Make not thy selfe by over-wishing poore Husband that good which else abuse makes bad Abstracting where thy base desire would adde Lines flowing from a Sophoclean quill Deserve no Plaudit being acted ill 2 In Adversity Hath heav'n withdrawn the talent he hath giv'n thee Hath envious Death of all thy Sons bereaven thee Have soule Diseases foil'd thee on the floore He earnes no sweet that never tasted sowre Thou art a Scholler if thy Tutor doe Pose thee too hard he will instruct thee too 3 In Tentation Art thou oppos'd to thine unequall Foe March bravely on thy Gen'rall bids thee goe Thou art heav'ns Champion to maintain his right Who cals thee forth wil give thee strength to fight God seekes by conquest thy renowne for He Will win enough Fight thou or Faint or Flee 4 In Slander If Winter fortunes nip thy Summer Friends And tip their tongues with Censure that offends Thy tender Name despaire not but be wise Know Heaven selecteth whom the world denies Thou hast a milke-white Thisâ—y that's within 〈◊〉 Will take thy part when all the world's â—giâ— thee 5 In Re-advancement Art thou advanc'd to thy supreme desier Be still the same Feare Lower aime no higher Mans Play hath many Sceanes but in the last Heaven knits up all to sweeten all that 's past Affliction is a Rod to scourge us home An 'a painfull earnest of a Heaven to come The end THE HISTORIE OF SAMSON By Fra. Quarles LONDON Printed by MILES FLESHER for I. MARRIOTT in S. Dunstans Church-yard in Fleet-street 1632. To the READER THe tyranny of my affaires was never yet so imperious but I could steale some howers to my private Meditations the fruits of which stolne time I here present thee with in the History of Samson Wherein if thy extreme severity check at any thing which thou conceivest may not stand with the Majesty of this sacred Subject know that my intention was not to offend my brother The wisest of Kings inspired by the King of Wisdome thought it no detraction from the gravity of his Holy Proverbs to describe a Harlot like a Harlot Her whorish Attire her immodest Gesture her bold Countenance her flattering Tongue her lascivious Embraces her unchast Kisses her impudent Invitations If my descriptions in the like kinde offend I make no question but the validitie of my Warrant will give a reasonable satisfaction He that lifts not his feet high enough may easily stumble But on the contrary if any be whose worse then sacrilegious minds shall prophane our harmles intentions with wanton conceits to such I heartily wish a Procul Ite Let none such looke farther then this Epistle at their own perils If they doe let them put off their shoos for this is holy Ground Foule hands will muddle the clearest waters base minds will corrupt the purest Text If any offence be taken it is by way of stealth for there is none willingly given I write to Bees and not to Spiders They will sucke pleasing honey from such flowers These may burst with their owne poyson But you whose well-seasond hearts are not distempered with either of these extremities but have the better relish of a Sacred understanding draw neere and reade I Sing th' illustrious and renowned Story Of mighty Samson The eternall glory Of his Heroicke acts His life His death Quicken my Muse with thy diviner breath Great God of Muses that my prosp'rous Riâ—es May live and last to everlasting times That they unborne may in this sacred Story Admire thy goodnes and advance thy glory THE HISTORIE OF SAMSON THE ARGVMENT A holy Angell doth salute The wife of Manoah and inlarge Her barren wombe with promis'd fruit Of both their loynes The Angles charge Sect. 1. WIthin the Tents of Zorah dwelt a man Of Iacobs seed and of the Tribe of Dâ—n Knowne by the name of Maenoah to whom Heaven had deny'd the treasure of the wombe His Wife was barren And her prayers could not Remove that great reproach or clense that blot Which on her fruitlesse name appear'd
I had no other heaven 〈◊〉 a while not able to digest So great a losse to lose so faire a Guest I left no path untrac'd no place â—nsought No secret Cell unsearcht no way unthought I ask'd the shade but shadowes could not hide him I ask'd the World but all the world deny'd him 5. MY jealous Love distemp'red with distraction Made fierce with feare unapt for satisfaction Aplyes fresh fuell to my flaming fires With Eagles wings supplies my quicke desires Vp to the walls I trampled where I spide The City watch to whom with teares I cryde Ah gentle Watchmen you aloft descry What 's darke to us did not my love passe by 6 AT leÌ„gth wheÌ„ dul despaire had gain'd the grouÌ„d Of tyred hopes my faith fell in a swound But He whose sympathising heart did finde The tyrant passion of my troubled minde Forthwith appear'd What Angels tongue can let The world conceive our pleasures when we met And till the joyes of our espoused hearts Be made coÌ„pleat the world ne're more shall part 's BRIDEGROOME SONET X. NOw rests my love Till now her tender brest Wanting her joy could finde no peace no rest I charge you all by the true love you beare To friendship or what else you count most deare Disturbe her not but let her sleepe her fill I charge you all upon your lifes be still O may that labouring soule that lives opprest For me in me receive eternall rest 2. WHat curious face is this what mortall birth Can shew a beauty thus unstain'd with earth What glorious Angell wanders thus alone From earths foule dungeon to my fathers throne 〈◊〉 is my love my love that hath denyde The world for me It is my fairest Bride 〈◊〉 fragrant is her breath How heavenly faire Her Angell face Each glorifying the Aire BRIDE SONET XI O How I 'm ravisht with eternall blisse Who e're thought heaveÌ„ a joy coÌ„par'd to this â—ow doe the pleasures of this glorious Face Adde glory to the glory of this place 〈◊〉 how Kings Courts surmouÌ„t poore Shepheards cells So this the pride of Salom on excells 〈◊〉 wreathes of glory crowne his royall Head And troopes of Angels waite upon his bed 2. THe Court of Princely Salomon was guarded With able men at armes their faith rewarded â—ith fading honours subject to the fate Of Fortune and the jealous frownes of State 〈◊〉 here th' harmonious quire of heaven attend Those prize is glory glory without end â—â—mixt with doubtings or degenerous feare 〈◊〉 greater Prince than Salomon is here 3. THe Bridall bed of Princely Salomon Whose beautie amaz'd the greedie lookers on Which all the world admired to behold Was but of Cedar and her Sted of gold Her pillars silver and her Canopie Of silkes but richly stain'd with purple die Her curtaines wrought in workes workes rarely led By th' needles art such was the bridall bed 4. SVch was the bridall bed which Time or Age Durst never warrant from th'opprobrious rage Of envious fate Earths measure 's but a minit Earth fades all fades upon it all within it O but the glorie ' of this diviner place No age can injure nor yet Time deface Too bright an object for weake eyes to bide Or tongues t' expresse Who ever saw 't but dyde 5. WHo e're beheld the royall Crowne set on The nuptiall browes of Princely Salomon His glorious pompe whose honour did display The noysed triumphs of his Marriage day A greater Prince than Salomon is here The beauty of whose Nuptials shall appeare More glorious farre transcending his as farre As heavens bright lamp out-shines th'obscurest star BRIDEGROOME SONET XII HOw orient is thy beauty How divine How darke's the glory of the earth to thine Thy vailed eyes out-shine heavens greater light Vnconquer'd by the shadie Cloud of night Thy curious Tresses dangle all unbound With unaffected order to the ground How orient is thy beautie how divine How darke's the glory of the earth to thine 2. THy Ivory Teeth in whitenesse doe out-goe The downe of Swans or winters driven snow Those even proportions lively represent Thâ— harmonious Musicke of unite consent Whose perfect whitenesse Time could never blot Nor age the Canker of destruction rot How orient is thy beauty How divine How darke's the glory of the earth to thine 3. THe rubie Portalls of thy ballanc'd words Send forth a welcome relish which affords A heaven of blisse and makes the earth rejoyce To heare the Accent of thy heavenly voice The mayden blushes of thy Cheekes proclaime A shame of guilt but not a guilt of shame How orient is thy beauty How divine How darke's the glory of the earth to thine 4. THy necke unbeautifyde with borrowed grace Is whiter than the Lillies of thy face 〈◊〉 whiter may for beauty and for powre T is like the glory of Davids princely Towre What vassall spirit could despaire or faint Finding protection from so sure a Saint How orient is thy beauty How divine How darke's the glory of the earth to Thine 5. THe deare-bought fruit of that forbidden Tree Was not so dainty as thy Apples be These curious Apples of thy snowy brests Wherein a Paradise of pleasure rests They breathe such life into the ravisht Eye That the inflam'd beholder cannot dye How orient is thy beautie How divine How darke's the glory of the earth to Thine 6. MY dearest Spouse I 'le hie me to my home And till that long-expected day shall come The light wherof shall chase the night that shrouds Thy vailed beauty in these envious clouds Till then I goe and in my Throne provide A glorious welcome for my fairest Bride Chapplets of conqu'ring Palme Lawrel boughs Shall crowne thy Temples and adorne thy browes 7. WOuld beauty faine be flatter'd with a grace She never had May she behold thy face Envie would burst had she no other taske Than to behold this face without a maske No spot no veniall blemish could she finde To feed the famine of her ranc'rous minde Thou art the flowre of beauties Crowne they 're Much worse than foule that thinke thee lesse than faire 8 Feare not my Love for when those sacred bands Of wedlock shall conjoyne our promis'd hands I 'le come and quit thee from this tedious place Where thou art forc'd to sojourne for a space No forrein Angle of the utmost Lands Nor seas Abysse shall hide thee from my hands No night shall shade thee from my curious eye I 'le rouze the graves although grim death stand by 9. ILlustrious beames shot from thy flaming eye Made fierce with zeale and soveraigne Majestie Have scorcht my soule and like a fiery dart Transfixt the Center of my wounded heart The Virgin swetnesse of thy heavenly grace Hath made mine eyes glad pris'ners to thy face The beautie of thine eye-balls hath bereft Me of my heart O sweet O sacred
he lists No power is of man to love or hate Lyes not in mortals brest or pow'r of Fate MaÌ„ wants the strength to sway his strong affections What power is is from Divine directions Which oft unseene through dulnesse of the minde We nick name Chance because our selves are blind And that 's the cause mans first beholding eye Oft loves or hates and knowes no reason why ¶ 'T was not the brightnesse of Rebecca's face Or servants skill that wan the virgins grace 'T was not the wish or wealth of Abraham Or Isacks fortune or renowned name His comely personage or his high desert Obtain'd the conquest of Rebecca's heart Old Abra'm wisht in secret God directed 'T was Abra'm us'd the meanes 't was God effected Best marriages are made in heaven In heaven The hearts are joyn'd in earth the hands are given First God ordaines then man confirmes the Love Proclaming that on earth was done above ¶ 'T was not the sharpnesse of thy wandring eye Great King Assuerus to picke Majesty From out the sadnesse of a Captives face 'T was not alone thy chusing nor her grace Who mounts the meeke and beates the lofty down Gave thee the heart to chuse gave her the Crown Who blest thy fortunes with a second wife He blest thy fortunes with a second life That brest that entertain'd so sweet a Bride Stood faire to Treason by her meanes descride With double fortunes wer 't thou doubly blest To finde so faire and scape so foule a guest ¶ Thou aged father of our yeares and houres For thou as well discoverst as devoures Search still the entrails of thy just Records Wherein are entred the diurnall words And deeds of mortall men Bring thou to light All trech'rous projects mann'd by craft or might With Towr's of Brasse their faithful heart's imbosse That beare the Christian colours of the Crosse. ¶ And Thou Preserver of all mortall things Within whose hands are plac'd the hearts of Kings By whom all Kingdomes stand and Princes raigne Preserve thy CHARLES and my dear Soveraigne Let Traitors plots like wandring Atomes fly And on their heads pay ten-fold usury His bosome tuter and his safety tender O be thou his as hee 's thy Faiths Defender That thou in him and hee in thee may rest And we of both may live and die possest THE ARGVMENT The line of Haman and his race His fortunes in the Princes grace His rage to Mordecai exprest Not bowing to him as the rest Sect 7. VPon a time to Persias Royall Court A forraigne Stranger used to resort He was the issue of a royall breed The off-cast off-spring of the cursed seed Of Amelck from him descended right That sold his birth-right for his Appetite 〈◊〉 his name His fortunes did improve Increast by favour of the Princes love Full great he grew preferd to high command And plac'd before the Princes of the Land And since that honour and due reverence Belong where Princes give preeminence The King commands the servants of his State To suit respect to Hamans high estate And doe him honour fitting his degree With vailed bonnet and low bended knee They all observ'd but aged Mordecai Whose stubborne joynts neglected to obey The seed which Heaven with infamy had branded Stoutly refused what the King commanded Which when the servants of the King had seene Their fell disdaine mixtwith an envious spleene Inflam'd They question'd how he durst withstand The just performance of the Kings Command Daily they checkt him for his high disdaine And hee their checks did daily entertaine With silent slight behaviour which did prove As full of care as their rebukes of love ¶ Since then their hearts not able to abide A longer sufferance of his peevish pride Whose scorching fires passion did augment Must either breake or finde a speedy vâ—nt To Haman they th' unwelcome newes related And what they said their malice aggravated Envie did ope her Snake-devouring Iawes Foam'd frothy blood and bent her unked Pawes Her hollow eyes did cast out sudden flame And pale as ashes look't this angry Dame And thus bespake Art thou that man of might That Impe of Glory Times great Favorite Hath thy deserved worth restor'd againe The blemisht honour of thy Princely straine Art thou that Wonder which the Persian State Stands gazing at so much and poynting at Filling all woâ—dring eyes with Admiration And every loyall heart with Adoration Art thou that mighty He How haps it then That wretched Mordecai the worst of men A captive slave a superstitious Iew Slights thee and robs thee of thy righfull due Nor was his fault disguis'd with Ignâ—â—â—ce The unfee'd Advocate of sinne or Chance But backt with Arrogance and foâ—le Despite Rise up and doe thy suffring honour right Vp like his deepe Revenge rose Haman then And like a sleeping Lion from his Den Rouz'd his relentlesse Rage But when his eye Confirm'd the newes Report did testifie His Reason straight was heav'd from off his henge And Fury rounded in his eare Revenge And like a rash Adviser thus began There 's nothing Haman is more deare to man Aâ—d cooles his â—oyling veines with sweeter pleasure Than quicke revenge for to revenge by leisure Is but like feeding when the stomacke 's past Pleasing nor eager appetite nor taste â—et when delay returnes Revenge the greater Like poynant saâ—ce it makes the meate the sweeter It fiâ—s not th' honour of thy personage Nor stands it with thy Greatnesse to ingage Thy noble thoughts to make Revenge so poore To â—e reveng'd on one alone thy sore Needs many plaisters make thy honour good Not with a drop but with a world of blood Borrow the Syâ—â—e of Time and let thy Passion Mowe downe thy Iewish Foe with all his Nation Medita 7. FIghts God for cursed Amalek That hand That once did curse doth now the curse withstand Is God unjust Is Iustice fled from heaven Or are the righteous Ballances uneven Is this that Iust Iehova's sacred Word Firmely inroll'd within the Lawes Record I le fight with Amalek destroy his Nation And from remembrance blurre his Generation What shall his curse to Amalek be void And with those plagues shall Isr'el be destroyd Ah sooner shall the sprightfull flames of fire Descend and moysten and dull earth aspire And with her drinesse quench faire Titans heate Then shall thy words and just Decrees retreat The Day as wery of his burden tyres The Yeare full laden with her months expires The heav'ns growne great with age must soon decay The pondrous earth in time shall passe away But yet thy sacred words shall alway flourish Though daies years heaveÌ„ earth do perish How perkes proud Haman then What prosp'rous fate Exalts his Pagan head How fortunate Hath favour crown'd his times Hath God decreed No other Curse upon that cursed seed The mortall eye of man can but perceive Things present when his heart cannot conceive Hee 's either by his outward senses guided Or like a Quere
uncall'd will I repaire Howe'r my boldnesse shall his Lawes contraire And brauely welcome Death before mine eye And scorne her power If I dye I dye Meditat. 10. AS in the winged Common-wealth of Bees Whose carefull Summer-providence foresees Th' approching fruitlesse Winter which denies The crowne of labour some with laden thighs Take charge to beare their waxy burthens home Others receive the welcome load and some Dispose the waxe others the plot contrive Some build the curious Comb some guard the Hive Like armed Centinels others distreine The purer honey from the waxe some traine And discipline the young while others drive The sluggish Drones from their deserved Hive Thus in this Common-wealth untaught by Art Each winged Burger acts his busie part So man whose first creation did intend And chiefly pointed at no other end Then as a faithfull Steward to receive The Fine and quit-rent of the lives we live Must suit his deare indeavour to his might Each one must lift to make the burthen light Proving the power that his gifts afford To raise the best advantage for his Lord Whose substitute he is and for whose sake We live and breath each his account must make Or more or lesse and he whose power lacks The meanes to gather honey must bring waxe Five Talents double five two render foure Wher 's little little 's crav'd where much there 's more Kings by their Royall priviledge may do What unbefits a mind to search into But by the force of their prerogatives They cannot free the custome of their lives The silly Widow from whose wrinkled browes Faint drops distill through labour that she owes Her needy life must make her Audite too As well as Kings and mighty Monarks doe The world 's a Stage each mortall Acts thereon As well the King that glitters on the throne As needy beggers Heav'n Spectator is And markes who acteth well and who amisse ¶ What part befits me best I cannot tell It matters not how meane so acted well THE ARGVMENT Vnto the King Queene Ester goes He unexpected favour showes Demands her suit she doth request The King and Haman to a Feast Sect. 11. WHen as Queen Esters solemne 3. daies Fast Had feasted heaven with a sweet repast Her lowly bended body she unbow'd And like faire Titan breaking from a cloud She rose and with her Royall Robe she clad Her livelesse limmes and with a face as sad As griefe could paint wanting no Art to borrow A needlesse helpe to counterfeit a sorrow Softly she did direct her feeble pace Vnto the inner Court where for a space She boldly stood before the Royall Throne Like one that would but durst not make her mone Which when her princely husband did behold His heart relented Fortune helpes the bold And to expresse a welcome unexpected Forth to the Queene his Scepter he directed Whom now imboldned to approch secur'd In gracious termes he gently thus conjur'd What is 't Queene Ester would What sad request Hangs on her lips dwells in her doubtfull brest Say say my lifes preserver what 's the thing That lyes in the performance of a King Shall be deny'd Faire Queenâ— what e're is mint Vnto the moity of my Kingdome 's thine So Ester thus If in thy Princely eyes Thy loyall Servant hath obtain'd the prize Of undeserved favor let the King And Haman grace my this dayes-banquetting To crowne the dainties of his handmaids Feast Humbly devoted to so great a Guest The motion pleas'd and fairly well succeeded To willing minds no twice intreaty needed They came but in Queene Esters troubled face Robd of the sweetnesse of her wonted grace The King read discontent her face divin'd The greatnesse of some further suit behind Say say thou bountâ—ous harvest of my joyes Said then the King what dumpish griefe annoyes Thy troubled soule Speake Lady what 's the thing Thy heart desires By th' onour of a King My Kingdomes halfe requested I 'le divide To faire Queene Ester to my fairest Bride Lâ— then the tenour of my deare request Repli'd the Queene unto a second Feast Thy humble Suitor doth presume to bid The King and Haman as before she did Now therefore if it please my gracious Lord To daigâ—e his Royall presence and afford The peerlesse treasure of hiâ— Princeâ—y Grace To dry the sorrowes of his Handmaids face Then to my Kingly and thrice-welcome Guest His servant shall unbosome her Request Medita 11. HE that invites his Maker to a Feast Advising well the greatnesse of his Guest Must purge his dining chamber from infections And sweepe the Cobwebs of his lewd affections And then provide such Cates as most delight His Palate and best please his Appetite And such are holy workes and pious deeds These are the dainties whereon heaven feeds Faith plaies the Cook seasons directs and guides So man findes meate so God the Cooke provides His drinke are teares sprung from a midnight cry Heaven sips out Nectar from a sinners eye The dining chamber is the soule opprest God keepes his revells in a Sinners brest The musicke that attends the Feast are grones Deep-founding sighes and loud lamenting moneâ— Heav'n heares no sweeter musick than complaints The Fasts of sinners are the Feasts of Saints To which heav'n dains to stoop heav'ns hie King Descends whilst all the quire of Angels sing And with such sense-bereaving Sonets fill The hearts of wretched men that my rude quill Dazeld with too much light it selfe addressing To blaze them forth obscures theÌ„ in th' expressing Thrice happy man and thrice-thrice happy Feast Grac'd with the presence of so great a Guest To him are freely giv'n the privy keyes Of heav'n and earth to open when he please And locke when e're he liâ—t In him it lyes To ope the showring flood-gates of the skies Or shut them at his pleasure in his hand The Host of heaven is put if he command The Sunne not daring to withstand obeyes Out-runnes his equall howres flies back or stayes To him there 's nought uneasie to atchieve Hee le rouze the graves and make the dead alive ¶ Lord I 'me unfit t' invite thee to my home My Caâ—es are all too coorse too meane my Roome Yet come and welcome by thy pow'r Divine Thy Grace may turne my Water into Wine THE ARGVMENT Good Mordecai's unreverence Great Hamans haughty pride offends H'acquaints his wife with the offence The counsell of his wife and friends Sect. 12. THat day went Haman forth for his swolne brest Was fill'd with joyes and heart was full possest Of all the height Ambition could require To satisfie her prodigall Desire But when he passed through the Palace Gate His eye-sore aged Mardocheus sate With head unbar'd and stubborne knee unbenâ— Vnapt to fawne with slavish blandishment Which when great Haman saw his boyling brest So great disdaine unable to digest Ran o're his blood grew hot and new desires Incenst and kindled his avenging fires Surcharg'd with griefe and sick with male-content
and that on t' other Seed Moves as they move and stayes when as they stay And seemes delighted in their infant-play Yet fearing danger with a busie eye Lookes here and there if ought she can espy Which unawares might snatch a booty from her Eyes all that passe and watches every commer Even so th' affection of this tender Syre B'ing made more fervent with the selfe-same â—â—re Of dearest love which flamed in their brests Preserved as by fuell in those Feasts Was ravisht in the height of joyes to see His happy Childrens ten-fold unity As was his joy such was his holy feare Lest he that plants his Engines every where Baited with golden Sinnes and re-insnares The soule of Man turning his Wheat to Tares Should season Error with the taste of Truth And tempt the frailty of their tender youth No sooner therefore had the dappled skie Opened the Twilight of her waking eye And in her breaking Light had promis'd day But up he rose his holy hands did Iay Vpon the sacred Altar one by one An early Sacrifice for every Sonne For who can tell said he my Sonnes perchance Hâ—ve slipt some sinne which neither Ignorance Pleaded nor want of heed nor youth can cure Sin steales unseene when men sleep most secure Meditat. 1. WAnt is the badge of poverty Then he That wanteth most is the most poore say we The wretch that hunger drives from door to door Aiming at present Almes desires no more The toiling Swaine that hath with pleasing trouble Cockt a small fortune would that fortune double Which dearly bought with slav'ry then alas Hee would be deem'd a Man that 's well to passe Which got his mind 's now tickled with an itch But to deserve that glorious stile of Rich. That done h'enjoyes the crowne of all his labour Could he but once out-nose his right-hand-neighbourâ— Lives he at quiet now Now he begins To wish that Vs'ry were the least of sinnes But great or small he tries and sweet's the trouble And for its sake he wishes all things double Thus wishing still his wishes never cease But as his Wealth his Wishes still encrease Wishes proceed from want The richest then Most wishing want most and are poorest men If he be poore that wanteth much how poore Is he that hath too much and yet wants more Thrice happy he to whom the bounty of heaven Sufficient with a sparing hand hath given 'T is Grace not Gold makes great sever but which The Rich man is but poore the Poore man rich The fairest Crop of either Grasse or Graine Is not for use undew'd with timely raine The wealth of Croesus were it to be given Were not thank-worthy if unblest by Heaven Even as faire Phaebe in Diameter Earth interpos'd betwixt the Sunne and her Suffers Eclips and is disrobed quite During the time of all her borrowed Light So Riches which fond Mortals so embrace If not enlightned with the Beames of Grace B'ing interposed with too grosse a Care They lye obscured and no riches are My stint of Wealth lyes not in my expressing With Iacobs Store Lord give me Iacobs Blessing Or if at night thou grant me Lazars Boone Let Dives Dogs licks all my sores at noone Lord pare my wealth by my Capacity Lest I with it or it suit not with mee This humbly doe I sue for at thy hand Enough and not too much for my command Lord what thou lend'st shall serve but in the place Of reckoning Counters to summe up thy Grace THE ARGVMENT Satan appeares and then professes Himselfe mans Enemy confesses Gods love to Iob malignes his Faith Gaines power over all he hath Sect. 2. VPon a time when heaveÌ„s sweet quire of Saints Whose everlasting Hallelujah chaunts The highest praise of their celestiall King Before their Lord did the presentment bring Of th' execution of his sacred Will Commited to their function to fulfill Satan came too that Satan which betraid The soule of man to Deaths eternall shade Satan came too and in the midst he stands Like to a Vulture 'mongst a herd of Swans Said then th' Eternall From what quarter now Hath businesse brough thee Satan whence com'st thou The Lord of Heaven said th' Infernall since Thou hast intitled me the Worlds great Prince I hâ—ve beene practising mine old profession And come from compassing my large Possession Tempting thy sonnes and like a roaring Lion Seeking my prey disturbe the peace of Sion I come from sâ—wing Tares among thy Wheat To him that shall dissemble Peters seat I have beene plotting how to prompt the death Of Christian Princes and the bribed breath Of cheapned Iustice hath my fire inflam'd With spirit of boldnesse for a while unsham'd I come from planting strife and sterne debate 'Twixt private man and man 'twixt State and State Subverting Truth with all the power I can Accusing Man to God and God to Man I daily sâ—w fresh Schismes among thy Saints I buffet them and laugh at their complaints The Earth is my Dominion Hell 's my Home I round the World and so from thence I come Said then th' Eternall True thou hast not fail'd Of what thou say'st thy spirit hath prevail'd To vexe my little Flocke Thou hast beene bold To make them stray a little from their Fold Bâ—t say In all thy hard Adventures hath Thine eye observed Iob my Servants faith Hath open force or secret fraud beset His Bulwarkes so impregnable as yet And hast thou without envy yet beheld How that the World his second cannot yeeld Hast thou not found that he 's of upright will Iust fearing God â—schewing what is ill True Lord reply'd the Fiend thy Champion â—â—th A strong and fervent yet a crafty Faith A forced love needs no such great applause He loves but ill that loves not for a cause Hast thou not heap'd his Garners with excesse Inricht his Pastures Doth not he possesse All that he hath or can demand from Thee His Coffers fill'd his Land stock'd plenteouâ—â—y Hath not thy love surrounded him about â—And â—edg'd him in to fence my practice out But small 's the triall of a Faith in this â—f thou suppâ—rt him t is thy strength not hisâ— Can then my power that stands by thy permission Encounter where Thou mak'st an Opposition Stretch forth thy Hand and smite 〈◊〉 what he hath And prove thou then the temper of his Faith Cease cock'ring his fond humour veile thy Grace No doubt but he 'll blaspheme thee to thy fâ—â—c Lâ—e said th' Eternall to thy cursed hand I â—ere commit his mighty Stocke his Land His hopefull Issue and Wealth though nere so much Himselfe alone thou shalt forbeare to touch Medita 2. SAâ—an beg'd once and found his pray'rs reward We often beg yet oft returne unheard If granting be th' effect of love then we Conclude our selves to be lesse lov'd than hee True Satan beg'd and beg'd his shame no lesse 'T was granted shall we envie his successe We beg and our request 's perchance not granted
at length So mortals die and being dead ne're minde The fairest fortunes that they leave behinde While man is man untill that death bereave him Of his last breath his griefes shal never leave him Meditat. 10. DOth Hist'ry then and sage Chronologiâ— The Index pointing to Antiquity So firmly grounded on deepe Iudgement guarded And kept by so much Miracle rewarded With so great glory serve but as slight Fables To edge the dulnesse of mens wanton Tables And claw their itching eares Or doe they rather Like a conciâ—e Abridgement serve to gather Mans high Adventures and his transitory Atchievements to expresse his Makers glory Acts that have blown the lowdest Trumpe of Fame Are all but humours purchas 't in His name Is he that yesterday went forth to bring His Fathers Asses home to day crown'd King Did hee that now on his brave Palace stood Boasting his Babels beauty chew the cud An hower after Have not Babes beene crown'd And mighty Monarchs beaten to the ground Man undertakes heaven breathes successe upon it What good what evill is done but heaveÌ„ hath done it The Man to whom thâ— world was not asham'd To yeeld her Colours he that was proclam'd A God in humane shape whose dreadfull voyce Did strike men dead like Thunder at the noyse Was rent away from his Imperiall Throne Before his flowre of youth was fully blowne His race was rooted out his Issue slaine And left his Empire to another straine Who that did e're behold the ancient Rome Would rashly given her glory such a doome Or thought her subject to such alterations That was the Mistresse and the Queen of Nations Egypt that in her wals had once engrost More Wisdome than the world besides hath lost Her senses now Her wisest men of State Are turn'd like Puppets to be pointed at If Romes great power and Egypts wisdome can Not ayde themselves how poore a thing is Man God plaies with Kingdomes as with Tennis-balls Fells some that rise and raises some that fals Nor policy can prevent nor secret Fate Where Heaven hath pleas'd to blow upon a State If States be not secure nor Kingdomes than How helpelesse Ah! how poore a thing is Man Man 's like a flower the while he hath to last Hee 's nipt with frost and shooke with every blast Hee 's borne in sorrow and brought up in teares He lives a while in sinne and dyes in feares Lord I 'le not boast what e're thou give unto me Lest e're my brag be done thou take it from me No man may boast but of his owne I can Then boast of nothing for I am a Man THE ARGVMENT Rash Eliphaz doth aggravate The sinnes of Iob malign's his flâ—te Whom Iob reproving justifies Himselfe bewailes his miseries Sect. 11. DOth vaine repining Eliphaz replies Or words like wind beseeme the man that 's wise Ahsure thy faithlesse heart rejects the feare Of heaven dost not acquaint thy lips with pray'r Thy words accuse thy heart of Impudence Thy tongue not I brings in the Evidence Art thou the first of men Doe Mysteries Vnfold to thee Art thou the onely wise Wherein hath Wisdome beene more good to you Then us What know you that we never knew Reverence not Censure fits a young mans eyes We are your Ancients and should be as wise It't not enough your Arrogance derides Our counsels but must scorne thy God besides Angels if God in quier strictly must Not pleade Perfection then can man be just It is a truth receiv'd these aged eyes Have seen 't and is confirmed by the wise That still the wicked man is void of rest Is alwayes fearefull falls when he feares least In trouble he despaires and is dejected He begs his bread his death comes unexpected In his adversity his griefes shall gaule him And like a raging Tyrant shall in thâ—all him He shall advance against his God in vaine For Heaven shall crush beate him downe againe What iâ— his Garners thrive and goods increase They shall not prosper nor he live in peace Eternall horrour shall begâ—â—t him round And vengeance shall both him and his confound Amidst his joyes despaire shall stop his breath His sons shall perish with untimely death The double soule shall die and in the hollow Of all false hearts falâ—e hearts theÌ„selves shall swallow Then answered Iob All this before I knew They want no griefe that finde such friends as you Ah cease your words the fruits of ill spent houres If heaven should please to make my fortunes yours I would not scoffe you nor with taunts torment ye My lips should comfort and these eyes lament ye What shall I doe speake not my griefes oppresse My soule or speake alas they 'r ne're thelesse Lord I am wasted and my pangs have spent me My skin is wrinkâ—ed for thy hand hath rent me Mine enemies have smit me in disdaine Laught at my torments jested at my paine I swell'd in wealth but now alas am poore And feld with woe lye groveling on the floore In dust and sackcloth I lament my sorrowes Thy Hand hath trencht my cheekes with water furrowes Nor can I comprehend the cause that this My smart should be so grievous as it is Oh earth if then an Hypocrite I be Cover my cryes as I doe cover thee And witnesse Heaven that these my Vowes be truâ— Ah friends I spend my teares to Heav'n not you My time 's but short alas would then that I Might try my cause with God before I dye Since then I languish and not farre from dead â—et me a while with my Accusers plead Before the Iudge of heaven and earth my right Have they not wrong'd and vext me day night Who first layes downe his Gage to meet me Say I doubt not Heaven being Iudge to win the day You 'll say perchance wee 'll recompell your word E're simple truth should unawares afford Your discontent No no forbeare for I Hate lesse your Censures then your flattery I am become a By-word and a Tabor To set the tongues and eares of men in labour Mine eyes are dimme my body 's but a shade Good men that see my case will be afraid But not confounded They will hold their way And in a bad they 'll hope a better day Recant your errours for I cannot see One man that 's truly wise among you Three My dayes are gone my thoughts are mis-possest The silent night that heaven ordain'd for rest My day of travell is but I shall have E're long long peace within my welcome grave My neerest kinred are the wormes the earth My mother for she gave me first my birth Where are my hopes then where that future joy Which you fals-prophecy'd I should enjoy Both hopes and I alike shall travell thither Where clos'd in dust we shall remaine together Meditat. 11. THe Morall Poets nor unaptly faine That by lame Vulcans help the pregnant brain Of soveraigne â—ove brought forth and at that birth Was borne Minerva Lady of the earth
Shal blaze his shame and Earth shall stand his foe His wandring Children shall no dwelling know Behold the mans estate whom God denyes Behold thine owne pourtraicted to thine Eyes Meditat. 12. CAn mercy come from bloody Câ—in Or hath His angry Brow a smile or can his wrath Be quencht with ought but righteous Abels blood Can guilty Pris'ners hope for any good From the severer Iudge whose dismall breath Dooms them to die breaths nothing else but death Ah righteous Iudge wherein hath Man to trust Man hath offended and thy Lawes are just Thou frownest like a Iudge but I had rather That thou would'st smile upon me like a Father What if thy Esau be austere and rough Thou hast a Iacob that is smooth enough Thy Iacobs tender Kid brings forth a blessing While Esaus tedious Ven'zon is a dressing Thy face hath smiles as well as frownes by turnes Thy fier giveth light as well as burnes What if the Serpent stung old Adam dead Young Adam lives to breake that Serpents head Iustice hath struck me with a bleeding wound But Mercy poures in Oyle to make it sound The milk-white Lamb confounds the roaring Lion Blasted by Sinah I am heal'd by Sion The Law finds guilty and Death Iudgement gives But sure I am that my Redeemer lives How wretched was mans case in those dark dayes When Law was only read Which Law dismayes And taking vantage through the breach of it The Letter kills and can no way admit Release by pardon for by Law we dye Why then hop'd man without a reason Why Although there was no Sun their Morning eyes Saw by the Twilight that the Sun would rise The Law was like a mistie Looking-Glasse Wherein the shadow of a Saviour was Treats in a darker straine by Types and Signes And what should passe in after-dayes divines The Gospell sayes that he is come and dead And thus the Riddle of the Law is read Gospell is Law the Myst'ry being seal'd And Law is Gospell being once reveal'd Experience tells us when as birth denyes To man through Natures oversight his eyes Nature whose curious workes are never vaine Supplyes them in the power of his Braine So they whose eyes were barr'd that glorious sight Of the Messiah's day receiv'd more Light Inspired by the breath of Heaven then they That heard the tydings of that happy day The man that with a sharpe contracted eye Lookes in a cleere Perspective-Glasse doth spiâ— Objects remote which to the sense appeare Through help of the Perspective seeming neere So they that liv'd within the Lawes Dominion Did heare farre off a bruit and buzz'd Opinion A Saviour one day should be borne but he That had a Perspective of Faith might see That long-expected day of joy as cleere As if the triumph had beene then kept there Lord so direct me in thy perfect Way That I may looke and smile upon that Day O! bathe me in his blood spunge every staine That I may boldly sue my Counter-paine O! make me glorious in the doome he gives For sure I am that my Redeemer lives THE ARGVMENT Earths happinesse is not Heavens brand A rash recounting of Iob's crimes Iob trusts him to th' Almighties hand God ties his Iudgements not to Times Sect. 31. THen Iob replyde O let your patience prove You came not to afflict me but in Love O! beare with me and heare me speake at leysure My speech once ended mock scoffe your pleasure Myst'ries I treat not Toyes If then I range A thought beyond my selfe it is not strange Behold my case and stand amaz'd forbeare me Be still and in your deeper silence heare me Search you the hearts of men my Friends or can You judge the Inward by the Outward Man How haps the wicked then so sound in health So ripe in yeeres so prosperous in wealth They multiply their house is fill'd with Peace They passe unplagu'd their fruitfull flocks increase Their children thrive in joyfull melody Prosperous they live and peacefully they dye Renounce us God say they if God there be What need we knowledge of thy Word or Thee What is th' Almighty that we should adore him What hoots our prayer or us to fall before him 'T is not by chance their vaine Prosperity Crownes them with store or Heav'n not knowing why But you affirme That in conclusion they Shall fall But not so sudden as you say But can ye limit forth the space confine How long or when their lamps shal cease to shine Will any of you undertake to teach Your Maker things so farre above your reach The bad man lives in plenty dyes in peace The good as doe his houres his griefes increase Yet both the good and bad alike shall haue Though lives much differing yet one coÌ„mon grave I know your mining thoughts You will demand Where is the wickeds power And where stand Their lofâ—y buildings Are they to be seene Enquire of wandring Pilgrims that have beene Experienc'd in the Roade and they ' lrelate The Princely greatnesse of their Towâ—'s and State Live any more secure then they Or who Dare once reprove them for the deeds thy doe He lives in power and in peace he dyes Attended in his pompeous Obsequies How vaine are then the comforts of your breath That censure goodnesse or by Life or Death Said Eliphâ—z What then remaines Thy tongue Hath quit thy selfe accus'd thy God of wrong Gaines he by mans uprightnesse Can man adde To his perfection what he never had Fears he the strength of Man doth he torment him Lest that his untam'd power should prevent him What need I wast this breath Recall thy senses And take the Inventory of thy ' offences Thou tookst the poore mans Pawne nor hast thou fed Thy needy Brother with thy prosp'rous Bread Thy hands perverted Iustice and have spoyl'd The hopelesse Widow with her helplesse child Hence spring thy sorrowes Iob 'T is Iustice then Thou shouldst-bee plagu'd that thus plagu'd other men Is heaven just Can heavens just Creator Let passe unpunisht Sinnes of so high nature Hath not experience taught that for a while The Wicked may exalt their Crests and smile Blowne up with Insolence But in conclusion They fall and good men laugh at their confusion Iob adde not sinne to sinne cease to beguile Thy selfe thinking to quench thy fire with Oyle Returne thee to thy God confesse thy crimes Returne and he will crowne thy after times With former Blessings and thy Riches shall Be as the Sand for God is all in all His face shall welcome thee and smile upon thee And cease that mischief his just haÌ„d hath done thee He shall be pleased with thy holy Fires And grant the issue of thy best Desires Iob answer'd then Although my soule be faint And griefes weigh down the scale of my complaint Yet would I plead my cause which you defam'd Before my Maker and would plead unsham'd Could I but find him I would take upon me To quite the censures you have
woÌ„be that must not be defil'd With uncleane meates lest it pollute the child Is this the Nazarite May a Nazarite then Eâ—brue and paddle in the bloods of men Or may their vowes be so dispens'd withall That they who searce may see a funerall Whose holy foot-steps must beware to tread Vpon or touch the carkasse of the dead May these reveÌ„ge their wrongs by blood may these Have power to kill murther where they please T is true A holy Nazarite is forbid To doe such things as this our Nazarite did He may not touch the bodies of the dead Without pollution much lesse may shed The blood of man or touch it being spilt Without the danger of a double guilt But who art thou that art an undertaker To question with or plead against thy Maker May not that God that gave thee thy creation Turne thee to nothing by his dispensation He that hath made the Sabbath and commands It shall be kept with unpolluted hands Yet if he please to countermand agin Man may securely labour and not sin A Nazarite is not allow'd to shed The blood of man or once to touch the dead But if the God of Nazarites bids kill He may and be a holy Nazarite still But stay Is God like Man Or can he border Vpon confusion that 's the God of order The Persian Lawes no time may contradict And are the Lawes of God lesse firme and strict An earthly Parent wills his child to stand And waite within a while he gives command Finding the weaknesse of his sonne opprest With wearinesse that he sit downe and rest Is God unconstant then because he pleases To alter what he wild us for our eases Know likewise O ungratefull flesh and blood God limits his owne glory for our good He is the God of mercy and he prizes Thine Asses life above his Sacrifices His Sabbath is his glory and thy rest Hee 'l lose some honour ere thou lose a Beast Great God of mercy O how apt are wee To rob thee of thy due that art so free To give unaskt Teach me O God to know What portion I deserve and tremble too â—That heare the newes thus with himselfe besought It cannot be excus'd It was a fault It was a foule one too and at first sight 〈◊〉 greate for love or pardon to acquite â— â—ad it beene a stranger that betraid â—â—posed secrets I had onely laid The blame â—pon my unadvised tongue Or bad a common friend but done this wrong To besome trust my patience might out warne it I could endur'd I could have easily borne it 〈◊〉 this to be betraied by a wiâ—e The parâ—ner of my heart to whom my life 〈◊〉 very soule was not esteeâ—ed deare It 〈◊〉 than flesh is more than bloud can beare 〈◊〉 yet alas She was but greene and young And had not gain'd the conquest of her tongue â—â—season'd vessells wiâ—â— finde a leake At first but after hold She is but weake â—â—y cannot yet write woman which at best 〈◊〉 a fraile thing Alas young things will quest At every turne Indeed to say the truth Her yeares could make it but a fault of youth Samson returne and let that fault be set Vpoâ— the score of youth forgive forget 〈◊〉 is my wife Her love hath power to hide A fouler errour Why should I diuide My presence from her There 's no greater wrong 〈◊〉 love than to be silent over long 〈◊〉 poore soule No doubt her tender eye 〈◊〉 wept enough perchance she knowes not why 〈◊〉 turn'd so great a stranger to her bed And boord Nodoubt her empty eyes have shed A â—â—â—ld of teares perchance her 〈◊〉 thought 〈◊〉 my absence 〈◊〉 a greater fault Then that of late her harmlesse errour did I 'le goe and draw a reconciling Kid From the faire flocke My feet shall never rest Till I repose me in my Brides faire brest He went but ere his speedy lips obtain'd The merits of his haste darknesse had stain'd The cristall brow of day and gloomy night Had spoil'd and rifled heaven of all his light H' approacht the gates but being entred in His carelesse welcome seem'd so cold and thin As if that silence meant it should appeare He was no other than a stranger there In every servants looke he did espie An easie Copie of their Masters eye He call'd his wife but she was gone to rest Vnto her wonted chamber he addrest His doubtfull steps till by her father staid Who taking him aside a little said Sonne It was the late espousals that doe move My tongue to use that title not thy love 'T is true there was a Marriage lately past Betweene my childe and you The knot was fast And firmely tyed not subject to the force Of any power but death or else divorce For ought I saw a mutuall desire Kindled your likings and an equall fire Of strong affection joyned both your hands With the perpetuall knot of nuptiall bands Mutuall delight and equall joyes attended Your pleased hearts untill the feast was ended But then I know no ground you know it best As if your loves were measur'd by the Feast The building fell before the house did shake 〈◊〉 fire was quencht ere it began to slake All on a sudden were your ioyes disâ—eisâ—d Fâ—rsooke your Bride and went away displeas'd 〈◊〉 left my child to the opproâ—rions tongues Of open censure whose malitious wrongs Maligning her faire merits did defame Her wounded honour and unblemisht naâ—e I thought thy love which was so strong of late Had on a sudden turn'd to perfect hate At length when as your longer absence did Câ—â—firme my thoughts and time had quite forbid Our hopes t' expect a reacdesse of love Thinking some new affection didâ—â—emove Your heart and that some second choice might smother The first I matcht your Bride unto another If 〈◊〉 have done amisse the fault must be Imputed yours and not to her nor me But if your easie losse may be redeem'd With her faire Sister who you know's esteem'd More beautifull than she and younger too She shall be firmely joyn'd by nuptiall vow And by a present contract shall become Thy faithfull spouse in her lost sisters roome With that poorâ— Samson like a man entranc'd And newly wakened thus his voice advanc'd Presumptuus Philistine That dost proceed From the base loines of that accursed seed Blanded for slaughter and mark'd out for death And utter ruine this my threatning breath Shall blast thy nation This revenging hand Shall crush thy darkasse and thy cursed land â—â—le give thy flesh to Ravens and ravinous Swine Shall take that rancke and tainted bloud of thine For wash and swill to quench their eager thirst Which they shall sucke and guzzle till they burst I 'le burne your standing Corne with flames of fire That none shall quench I 'le drag ye in the mire Of your owne blouds which shall ore-flow the land And make your pasture barren as the sand This ruthlesse arme shall smite and never stay
Thy servants glory in thy ruine those That were thy private friends are publike foes Thus thus say they we spit our rankrous spleene And gâ—ash our teeth upon the worlds faire Queene Thrice welcome this this long expected day That crownes our conquest with so sweet a prey ELEG 17. REbellious Iudah Could thy flattring crimes Secure thee from the dangers of the times Or did thy summer Prophets ere foresay These evills or warn'd thee of a winters day Did not those sweet-lipt Oracles beguile Thy wanton eares with newes of Wine and Oile But heaven is just what his deepe counsell wild His prophets told and Iustice hath fulfill'd He hath destroy'd no secret place so voyd No Fort so sure that Heaven hath not destroy'd Thou land of Iudah How 's thy sacred throne Become a stage for Heathen to trample on ELEG 18. SEe see th' accursed Gentiles doe inherit The Land of promise where heavens Sacred Spirit Built Temples for his everlasting Name There there th'usurping Pagans doe proclaime Their idle Idols unto whom they gave That stolen honor which heavnes Lord should have Winke Sion O let not those eyes be stain'd With heavens dishonour see not heaven profan'd Close close thine eyes or if they needs must be Open like flood-gates to let water flee Yet let the violence of their flowing streames Obscure thine open eyes and mask their beames ELEG 19. TRust not thy eye-lids lest a flattering sleepe Bribe them to rest and they forget to weepe Powre out thy heart thy heart dissolv'd in teares Weepe forth thy plaints in the Almighties eares Oh let thy cries thy cries to heaven addrest Disturbe the silence of thy midnight rest Prefer the sad petitions of thy soule To heaven ne're close thy lips till heaven condole Confounded Sion and her wounded weale That God that smit oh move that God to heale Oh let thy tongue ne're cease to call thine eye To weepe thy pensive heart ne're cease to cry ELEG 20. VOuchsafe oh thou eternall Lord of pitty To looke on Sion and thy dearest City Confus'd Ierusalem for thy DAVIâ—S sake And for that promise which thy selfe did make To halting Isr'el loe thy hand hath forc'd Mothers whom law lesse Famine hath divorc'd From deare affection to devoure the bloomes And buds that burgeond froÌ„ their painful wombs Thy sacred Priests and Prophets that while-ere Did hourely whisper in thy neighbouring eare Are falne before the sacrilegious sword Even where even whilst they did unfold thy word ELEG 21. WOunded and wasted by th' eternall hand Of heaven I grovell on the ground my land Is turn'd a Golgotha before mine eye Vnsepulchred my murthred people lye My dead lye rudely scattred on the stones My Cawsies all are pav'd with dead mens bones The fierce Destroyer doth alike forbeare The maidens trembling and the Matrons teare Th' imperiall sword spares neither Foole nor Wise The old mans pleading nor the Infants cries Vengeance is deafe and blinde and she respects Nor Young nor Old nor Wise nor Foole nor Sex ELEG 22. YEares heavie laden with their months retire Months gone their date of numbred daies expire The daies full houred to their period tend And howers chac'd with light-foot Minutes end Yet my undated evills no time will minish Though yeares months though daies and howers finish Feares flocke about me as invited guests Before the Portalls at proclamed feasts Where heaveÌ„ hath breathd that man that state must fall Heaven wants no thunder-bolts to strike withall I am the subject of that angry Breath My sonnes are slaine and I am mark'd for death Threnodia III. ELEG 1. ALL you whose unprepared lips did tast The tedious Cup of sharp affliction cast Your wondring eyes on me that have drunke up Those dregs whereof you onely kist the Cup I am the man 'gainst whom th' Eternall hath Discharg'd the lowder volley of his wrath I am the man on whom the brow of night Hath scowl'd unworthy to behold the light I am the man in whom th' Almighty showeâ— The dire example of unpattern'd woes I am that Pris'ner ransome cannot free I am that man and I am onely he ELEG 2. BOndage hath forc'd my servile necke to faile Beneath her load Afflictions nimble flayle Hath thrasht my soule upon a floore of stones And quasht the marrow of my broken bones Th' assembled powres of Heaven enrag'd are eager To root me out Heavens souldiers doe beleager My worried soule my soule unapt for fleeing That yeelds o'reburthen'd with her tedious being Th' Almighties hand hath clouded all my night And clad my soule with a perpetuall light A night of torments and eternall sorrow Like that of Death that never findes a morrow ELEG 3. CHain'd to the brazen pillars of my woes I strive in vaine No mortall hand can loose What heaven hath bound my soule is walld about That hope can nor get in nor feare get out When ere my wav'ring hopes to heaven addresse The feeble voice of my extreame distresse He stops his tyred eares without regard Of Suit or Suitor leaves my prayers unheard Before my faint and stumbling feet he layes Blockes to disturbe my best advised wayes I seeke my peace but seeke my peace in vaine For every way 's a Trap each path's a Traine ELEG 4. DIsturbed Lyons are appeas'd with blood And ravenous Beares are milde not wanting food But heaven ah heaven will not implored be Lyons and Beares are not so fierce as Hee His direfull vengeance which no meane confines Hath crost the thriving of my best designes His hand hath spoild me that erewhile advanc't me Brought in my foes possest my friends against me His Bow is bent his forked Rovers flie Like darted haile-stones from the darkned skie Shot from a hand that cannot erre they be Transfixed in no other marke but me ELEG 5. EXil'd from Heaven I wander to and fro And seeke for streames as Stags new stricken doe And like a wandring Hart I flee the Hounds With Arrowes deeply fixed in my wounds My deadly Hunters with a winged pace Pricke forwards and pursue their weary chace They whoope they hollow me deride flout me That flee from death yet carrie death about me Excesse of torments hath my soule deceiv'd Of all her joyes of all her powres bereiv'd O curious griefe that hast my soule brim-fill'd With thousand deaths and yet my soule not kill'd ELEG 6. FOllow'd with troopes of feares I flie in vaine For change of places breeds new change of paine The base condition of my low estate My exalted Foes disdaine and wonder at Turne where I list these these my wretched eyes They finde no objects but new miseries My soule accustom'd to so long encrease Of paines forgets that she had ever peace Thus thus perplext thus with my griefes distracted What shall I do Heavens powers are compacted To worke my ' eternall ruine To what friend Shal I make mone when heaven conspires my end ELEG 7. GReat GOD what helpe ah me what hope is left
But thy Bulwarkes aid cannot withstand The direfull stroake of the Almighties hand Thy Wafer-walls at dread Iehovahs blast Shall quake and quiver and shall downe 〈◊〉 Thy watchfull Towers shall asleepe be found And nod their drowsie heads downe to the ground Thy Bulwarks are not Vengeance-proofe thy Wall When Iustice brandisheth her Sword must fall Thy lofty Towers shall be dumbe and yeeld To high Revenge Revenge must win the field Vengeance cryes loud from heaven she cannot stay Her Fury but impatient of delay Hath brimm'd her 〈◊〉 full of deadly Bâ—ne Thy Palâ—ce shall be burnt thy People slaine Thy Heart is hard as Flint and swolne with pride Thy murth'rous Hands with guitlesse blood are dy'd Thy silly Babes doe starve for want of Food Whose tender Mothers thou hast drencht in Blood Women with childe lye in the streets about Whose Braines thy savage hands have dashed out Distressed Widowes weepe but weepe in vaine For their deare Husbands whom thy hands have slaine By one mans Force another man 's devour'd Thy Wives are ravisht and thy Maids deflowr'd Where Iustice should there Tort Bribes are plac't Thy ' Altars defil'd and holy things defac't Thy Lips have tasted of proud Babels Cup What thou hast left thy Children have drunke up Thy bloody sinnes thine Abels guiltlesse blood Cryes up to heaven for Vengeance cryes aloud Thy sinnes are seire and ready for the fire Heere rouze my Muse and for a space respire TO THE MOST HIGH HIS HVMBLE SERVANT IMPLORES HIS FAVOVrable Assistance O All sufficient God great Lord of Light Without whose gracious ayd constant sprite No labours prosper howsoe're begun But flye like Mists before the morning Sun O raise my thoughts and cleare my Apprehension Infuse thy Spirit into my weake invention Reflect thy Beames upon my feeble Eyes Shew me the Mirrour of thy Mysteries My Art-lesse Hand my humble Heart inspire Inflame my frozen tongue with holy fire Ravish my stupid Senses with thy Glory Sweeten my Lips with sacred Oratory And thou O FIRST and LAST assist my Quill That first and last I may performe thy will My sole intent's to blazon forth thy Praise My ruder Pen expects no crowne of Bayes Suffice it then Thine Altar I have kist Crowne me with Glory Take the Bayes that list A FEAST FOR VVORMES By Fra Quarles LONDON Printed for IOHN MARRIOT 1633. A FEAST FOR WORMES THE ARGVMENT The word of God to Ionahâ—â—me â—â—me Commanded Ionah to proâ—lame The â—engeance of his Mâ—jestie Against the sinnes of 〈◊〉 Sect. 1. TH' Eternall Word of God whose high Decree Admits no change and cannot frustrate be Came downe to Ionah from the heavens above Came downe to * Ionah heavens anointed Dove Ionah the flowre of old 〈◊〉 youth Ionah the Prophet Sonne and Heire to Truth The blessed Type of him that ransom'd us That Word came to him and bespake him thus Arise trusse up thy loynes make all thingâ— meet And put thy Sandals on thy hasty feet Gird up thy reynes and take thy staffe in hand Make no delay but goe where I command Me pleases not to send thee Ionah downe To sweet Gath-Hepher thy deare native Towne Whos 's tender paps with plenty overflow Nor yet unto thy brethren shalt thou goe Amongst the Hebrewes where thy sprâ—dden fame Fore-runnes the welcome of thine honor'd name No I 'le not send thee thither Vp arise And goe to Niniveh where no Allies Nor consanguinity preseâ—ves thy blood To Niâ—iveh where strangers are withstood To Niniveh a City farre remov'd From thine acquaintance where th' art not belov'd I send thee to Mount Sinay not Mount Sion Not to a gentle Lambe but to a Lion Nor yet to Lydia but to bloody Pashur Not to the Land of Canaan but of Ashur Whose language will be riddles to thine eares And thine againe will be as strange to thâ—irs Isay to Niniveh the worlds great Hall The Monarchs seat high Court Imperiall But terrible Mount Sinayâ—ill â—ill affright thee And Pashurs heavy hand is bent to smite thee The Lions rore the people'â— strong and stout The Bulwarkes stand a front to keepe thee out Great Ashur minaces with whip in hand To entertaine thee welcome to his land What then Arise be gone stay not to thinke Bad is the cloth that will in wetting shrinke What then if cruell Pashur heape on stroakes Or Sinay blast thee with her sulph'rous smokes Or Ashur whip thee Or the Lions rent thee Pâ—sh on with courage I the Lord have sent thee Away away lay by thy foolish pity Aâ—d goe to Niniveh that mighty City Cry loud against it let thy dreadfull voice Make all the City eccho with the noise Not like a Dove but like a Dragon goe Pronounce my judgement and denounce my Woe Make not thy bed a fountaine â—all of teares â—o weepe in secret for her sinnes Thine eares Sâ—all heare such things will make thine eyes run over â—hine eyes shall smart with what they shall discover Spend not in private those thy zealous drops But hew and backe spare neither trunke nor lâ—ps Make heaven and earth rebound when thou discharges Plead not like Paul but roare like Boanarges Nor let the beauty of the buildings bleare thee Let not the terrors of the Rampiers feare thee Let no man bribe thy fist I well advise thee Nor foule meanes force thee nor let faire entice thee Ramme up thine eares Thy heart of stone shall be Be deafe to them as they are deafe to me Goe cry against it If they aske thee why Say heavens great Lord commanded thee to cry My Altars cease to smoke their holy fires Are quencht and where praiers should their sin aspires The fatnesse of their fornication fryes On coales of ragiâ—g lâ—st and upward flies And makes me seek I heare the mournefull groâ—es And heavy sighes of such whose aking bones Th' oppressor grindes Alas their griefes implore me Their pray'rs prefer'd with teares plead lowd before 〈◊〉 Behold my sonnes they have opprest and kill'd And bath'd their hands within the blood they spill'd The steame of guiltlesse blood makes suit unto me The voâ—â—e of many bloods is mounted to me The vile prophaner of my sacred Names He teares my titles and my honour maimâ—s Makes Rhet'rick of an oath sweares and forsweares Recks not my Mercy nor my Iudgement feares They eatâ— they drinke they sleepe they tire the â—igh◠〈…〉 â—alliance and uncleane delight Heavens winged Herald Ionaâ— up and goe To mighty Niniveh Denounce my woe Advance thy voice and when thou hast advanâ—â—â— it Spare Shrub nor Cedar but cry out against it Hold out thy Trumpet and with louder breath Proclame my sudden comming and their death The Authors Apology IT was my morning Muse A Muse whose spirit Transcendâ— I feare the fortunes of her merit Too bold a Muse whose fethers yet in blood She never bath'd in the Pyrenean Flood A Muse unbreath'd unlikely to attaine An easie honour by so stout a Traine Expect no lofty Hagard that
Strangers Fate Should be neglective of his owne estate Where is this love become in later age Alas 't is gone in endlesse pilgrimage From hence and never to returne I doubt 'Till revolution wheele those times about Chill brests have starv'd her here and she is driven Away and with Astraea fled to heaven Poore Charity that naked Babe is gone Her honey's spent and all her store is done Her winglesse Bees can finde out ne're a bloome And crooked Aâ—â— doth usurpe her roome Nepenthe's dry and Love can get no drinke And curs'd Arâ—enâ—e flowes above the brinke Brave Mariners the world your names shal hallow Admiring that in you that none dare follow Your friendship 's rare and your conversion straÌ„ge From Paganisme to zeale A sudden change Those men doe now the God of heaven implore That bow'd to Puppets but an houre before Their zeale is fervent though but new begun Before their egge-shels were done off they runne And when bright Phoebus in a Summer tide New risâ—n from the bosome of his Bride Enveloped with misty fogges at length Breakes forth displaies the mist with Southerne strength Even so these Mariners of peerlesse mirrour Their faith b'ing veil'd within the mist of errour At length their zeale chac'd ignorance away They left their Puppets and began to pray ¶ Lord how unlimited are thy confines That still pursu'st man in his good designes Thy mercy 's like the dew of Hermon hill Or like the Oyntment dropping downward still From Aarons head to beard from beard to foote So doe thy mercies drench us round about Thy love is boundlesse Thou art apt and free To turne to Man when Man returnes to thee THE ARGVMENT They cast the Prophet over boord The storme alay'd They feare the Lord A mighty Fish him quick devoures Where he remained many houres Sect. 6. EVen as a member whose corrupted sore Infests and rankles eating more and more Threatning the bodies losse if not prevented The wise chirurgion all faire meanes attented Cuts off and with advised skil doth choose To lose a part then all the body lose Even so the feeble Sailors that addresse Their idle armes where heaven denyes successe Forbeare their thrivelesse labours and devise To roote that Evill from whence their harms arise Treason is in their thoughts and in their eares Danger revives the old and addes new feares Their hearts grow fierce and every soule applies T' abandon mercy from his tender eyes They cease t' attempt what heaven so long withstood And bent to kill their thoughts are all on blood They whisper oft each word is Deaths Alarme They hoyst him up Each lends a busie arme And with united powers they entombe His out-cast body in Thetis angry wombe Whereat grim Neptune wip't his fomy mouth Held his tridented Mace upon the South The windes were whist the billows danc't no more The storme allay'd the heavens left off to rore The waves obedient to their pilgrimage Gave ready passage and surceast their rage The skie grew cleare and now the welcome light Begins to put the gloomy clouds to flight Thus all on sudden was the Sea tranquill The Heav'ns were quiet and the Waves were still As when a friendly Creditor to get A long forborne and much-concerning debt Still plies his willing debter with entreats Importunes daily daily thumps and beates The batter'd Portals of his tyred eares Bedeafing him with what he knowes and heares The weary debter to avoid the sight He loathes shifts here and there and ev'ry night Seekes out Protection of another bed Yet ne'rethelesse pursu'd and followed His eares are still laid at with lowder volley Of harder Dialect He melancholy Sits downe and sighs and after long foreslowing T' avoid his presence payes him what is owing The thankfull Creditor is now appeas'd Takes leave and goes away content and pleas'd Even so these angry waves with restlesse rage Accosted Ionas in his pilgrimage And thundred Iudgement in his fearefull eare Presenting Hubbubs to his guilty feare The waves rose discontent the Surges beat And every moments death the billowes threat The weather-beaten Ship did every minuit Await destruction while hee was in it But when his long expected corps they threw Into the deepe a debt through trespasse due The Seagrew kinde and all her frownes abated Her face was smooth to all that navigated 'T was sinfull Ionah made her storme and rage 'T was sinfull Ionah did her storme asswage With that the Mariners astonisht were And fear'd Iehovah with a mighty feare Offring up Sacrifice with one accord And vowing solemne vowes unto the Lord. But he whose word can make the earth's foundatioÌ„ Tremble and with his Word can make cessation Whose wrath doth mouÌ„t the waves toss the Seas And make theÌ„ calme smooth wheÌ„ e're he please This God whose mercy runs on endlesse wheele And puls like Iacob Iustice by the heele Prepar'd a Fish prepar'd a mighty Whale Whose belly was both prison-house and baile For retchlesse Ionah As the two leaf'd doore Opens to welcome home the fruitfull store Wherewith the harvest quits the Plowmans hope Even so the great Leviathan set ope His beame-like Iawes prepar'd for such a boone And at a morsell swallow'd Ionah downe 'Till dewy-check't Aurora's purple dye Thrice dappell'd had the ruddy morning skie And thrice had spred the Curtaines of the morne To let in Titan when the day was borne Ionah was Tenant to this living Grave Embowel'd deepe in this stupendious Cave Meditat. 6. LO Death is now as alwaies it hath bin The just procured stipend of our sinne Sinne is a golden Causie and a Road Garnisht with joyes whose pathes are even broad But leads at length to death and endlesse griefe To torments and to paines without reliefe Iustice feares none but maketh all afraid And then fals hardest when t is most delaid But thou reply'st thy sinnes are daily great Yet thou sittst uncontrold upon thy seat Thy wheat doth flourish and thy barnes do thrive Thy sheepe encrease thy sonnes are all alive And thou art buxom and hast nothing scant Finding no want of any thing but want Whil'st others whom the â—quint-ey'd world counts holy Sit sadly drooping in a melancholy With brow dejected and downe-hanging head Or take of almes or poorely begge their bread But young man know there is a Day of doome The Feast is good untill the reck'ning come The time runnes fastest where is least regard The stone that 's long in falling falleth hard There is a dying day thou prosp'rous foole When all thy laughter shall be turn'd to Doole Thy roabes to tort'ring plagues fel tormenting Thy whoops of Ioy to howles of sad lamenting Thy tongue shall yell and yawle and never stop And wish a world to give for one poore drop To flatter thine intolerable paine The wealth of Pluto could not then obtaine A minutes freedome from that hellish rout Whose fire burnes and never goeth out Nor house nor land not measur'd heaps of wealth
it Eyes â—ands and armes tongues eares and hearts of men Sing praise and let the people say Amen ¶ Tune you your Instruments and let them vary Praise him upon them in his Sanctuary Praise him within the highest Firmament Which shewes his Power and his Government Praise him for all his mighty Acts are knowne And suit thy praises to his high Renowne Praise him with Trump victorious shrill sharpe With Psaltry lowd and many-stringed Harpe With sounding Timbrell and the warbling Flute With Musicks full Interpreter the Lute Praise him upon the Maiden Virginalls Vpon the Clerick Organs and Cymballs Vpon the sweet Majestick Vyalls touch Double your joyes and let your prayse be such Let all in whom is life and breath give praise To heav'ns eternall God in endlesse dayes Let every Soule to whom a voyce is given Sing Holy Holy Holy Lord of Heaven For loe a Lambe is found that undertooke To break the seven-fold-Seale ope the BOOK◠¶ O let my life adde number to my dayes To shew thy glory and to sing thy praise Let every minute in thy praise be spent Let every head be bare and knee be bent To thee deare Lambe Who ere thy praises hide Clos'd be his Lippes and tongue for ever ty'de Hallelujah Gloria DEO in excelsis ELEVEN PIOVS Meditations 1. ¶ WIthin the holy Legend I discover Three speciall Attributes of God his Power His Iustice and his Mercy All uncreated Eternall all and all unseparated From Gods pure Essence and from thence proceeding All very God All perfect All exceeding And from that selfe-same text three names I gather Of great lehova Lord and God and Father The first denotes him mounted on his Throne In Power Majesty Dominion The second shewes him on his kingly Bench Rewarding Evill with equall punishments The third describes him on his Mercy-seat Full great in Grace and in his Mercy great ¶ All three I worship and before all three My heart shall humbly prostrate with my knee But in my private choice I fancy rather Then call him Lord or God to call him Father 2. ¶ IN hell no Life in heaven no Death there is In earth both Life and Death both Bale and Blis In Heaven 's all Life no end nor new supplying In hell 's all Death and yet there is no dying Earth like a partiall Ambidexter doth Prepare for Death or Life prepares for both Who lives to sinne in Hell his portion 's given Who dyes to sinne shall after live in Heaven ¶ Though Earth my Nurse be Heaven bee thou my Father Ten thousand deaths let me endure rather Within my Nurses armes then One to Thee Earths honour with thy frownes is death to mee I live on Earth as on a Stage of sorrow Lord if thou pleasest end the Play to morrow I live on Earth as in a Dreame of pleasure Awake me when thou wilt I wait thy leisure I live on Earth but as of life bereaven My life 's with thee for Lord thou art in Heaven 3. NOthing that e'r was made was made for nothing Beasts for thy food their skins were for thy clothing Flowers for thy smell and â—earbs for Cure good Trees for thy shade Their Fruit for pleasing Food The showers fall upon the fruitfull ground Whose kindly Dew makes tender Grasse abound The Grasse springs forth for beasts to feed upon And Beasts are food for Man but Man alone Is made to serve his Lord in all his wayes And be the Trumpet of his Makers praise ¶ Let Heav'n be then to me obdure as brasse The Earth as iron unapt for graine or grasse Then let my Flocks consume and never steed mee Let pinching Famine want wherewith to feed mee When I forget to honour thee my Lord Thy glorious Attributes thy Workes thy Word O let the Trump of thine eternall Fame Teach us to answer Hallow'd be thy Name 4. ¶ GOd built the World and all that therein is He framed yet how poore a part is his Quarter the Earth and see how small a rome Is stiled with the name of Christeâ— dome The rest through blinded ignorance rebels O're-runne with Pagans Turkes and Infidels Nor yet is all this little quarter his For though all know him halfe know him amisse Professing Chrâ—â—â— for lucre as they lâ—st And serve the triple Crowne of Anâ—â—â—hrist Yet is this little handfull much made lesser There 's many Lâ—â—ertines for one Prâ—fessour Nor doe Professours all professe aright ' Mong ' whom there often lurks an Hypocrite ¶ O where and what 's thy Kingdome blessed God Where is thy Scepter where 's thine iron Rod Reduce thy reck'nings to their totall summe O let thy Power and thy kingdome come 5. ¶ MAN in himselfe 's a little World Alone His Soul 's the Court or high Imperiall throne Wherein as Empresse sits the Vnderstanâ—ing Gently directing yet with awe Commanding Her Handmaid's will Affections Maids of Honour All following close and duely waiting on her But Sin that alwayes envi'd mans Condition Within this Kingdome raised up Division Withdrawne the Will and brib'd the false Affection That This no order hath nor That Election The Will proves Traitor to the Vnderstanding Reason hath lost her power and left commanding She 's quite depos'd and put to foule disgrace And Tyrant Passion now usurps her place ¶ Vouchsafe Lord in this little World of mine To raigne that I may raigne with Thee in thine And since my Will is quite of good bereaven Thy will be done in earth as 't is in Heaven 6 ¶ WHo live to sin are all but theeves to hearÌ„ And Earth They steale froÌ„ God take ungiveÌ„ Good men they rob such as live upright And being bastards share the freemans Right They 're all as owners in the owners stead And like to Dogs devoure the childrens bread They have and lacke and want that they possesse Vnhappy most in their most happinesse They are not goods but riches that they wast And not beâ—ng goods to ev'ls they turne at last ¶ Lord what I have let me enjoy in thee And thee in it or else take it from mee My store or want make thou or fade or flourish So shall my comforts neither change nor perish That little I enjoy Lord make it mine In making mee that am a Sinner thine 'T is thou or none that shall supply my need Great God Give us this day our daily bread 7. ¶ THe quick conceited Schoole-men doe approve A difference 'twixt Charity and Love Love is a vertue whereby we explaine Our selves to God and God to us againe But Charitie 's imparted to our Brother Whereby we trafficke one man with another The first extends to God The last belongs To Man in giving right and bearing wrongs In number they are twaine In vertue one For one not truely being t' other's none ¶ In loving God if I neglect my Neighbour My love hath lost his proofe and I my labour My Zeale my Faith my Hope that never failes me If
Chap. 8. 2. 15. Secondly in the behaviour 〈◊〉 the Subject to his Prince in observing 〈◊〉 Lawes and discovering his enemies Châ—â— 2. 22. Thirdly the behaviour of a Subiect 〈◊〉 a Subject in mutuality of love Chap. 4. 7. 〈◊〉 propagation of peace Chap. 10. 3. 3. The Oeconomical part the object whâ—â—â— of is private Society teacheth first the 〈◊〉 riage of the Wife to her Husband in 〈◊〉 Chap. 1. 22. of the Husband to his Wife is ruling Chap. 1. 22. Secondly of a Father to his Childe in advising Chap. 2. 7 10. of a Childe to his Father in observing Chap. 2. 20. Thirdly of a Master to his Servant in commanding Chap. 4. 5. of a Servant to his Master in effecting his command Chap. 4. 6. Furthermore in this history the two principall faculties of the soule are nor in vaine imployed First the Intellect whose proper object is Truth Secondly the Will whose proper object is good whether Philosophicall which the great Master of Philosophy calls Wisedome or Theologicall which wee point at now hoping to enjoy hereafter Who the Pen-mâ—n of this sacred History was or why the name of God as in few other parts of the Bible is unmentioned in this it is immateriall and doubtfull For the first it is enough for anuncurious questioner to know it was indited by the Spirit of God for the second let it suffice that that Spirit will'd not here to reveale his name As for the Manner of this history consisting in the Periphrase the adjournment of the Story and interposition of Meditations I I hope it hath not injured the Matter For in this I was not the least carefull to use the light of the best Expositors not daring to goe un-led for feare of stumbling Some say Divinity in Verse is incongruous and unpleasing such I referre to the Psalmes of David or the Song of his sonne Salomon to bee corrected But in these lewd times the salt and soule of a Verse is obscene scurrility without which it seemes dull and livelesse And though the sacred History needs not as humane doe Poetry to perpetuate the remembrance being by Gods owne mouth blest with Eternity yet Verse working so neare upon the soule and spirit will oft times draw those to have a history in familiarity who perchance before scarce knew there was such a Booke Reader bee more than my hasty pen stiles thee Reade mee with advice and thereafter judge me and in that judgement censure me If I jangle thinke my intent thereby is to toâ—â— better Ringers in Farewell THE INTRODVCTION WHen Zedechia He whose haplesse hand Once held the Scepter of Great Iudahs Land Went up the Palace of Proud Babylon The Prince Serajah him attending on A dreadfull Prophet from whose blasting breath Came sudden death and nothing else but death Into Serajah's peacefull hand betooke The sad Contents of a more dismall Booke Breake ope the leaves those leaves so full of dread Read sonne of thunder said the Prophet reade Say thus say freely thus The Lord hath spoke it 'T is done the world 's unable to revoke it Woe woe and heavy woes ten thousand more Betide great Babylon that painted whore Thy buildings and thy â—ensive Towers shall Flame on a sudden and to cinders fall None shall be left to waile thy griefe with Howles Thy streets shall peopl'd be with Bats and Owles None shall remaine to call thy places voyd None to possesse nor ought to be enjoy'd Nought shall be left for thee to terme thine owne But helplesse ruines of a haplesse towne Said then the Prophet When thy language hath Empty'd thy Cheekes of this thy borrow'd Breath Close then the Booke and binde a stone unto it That done into the swift Euphrates throw it And let this following speech explane withall The Hieroglyphickâ— of proud Babels fall Thus thus shall Babel Thus shall Babels glory Of her destruction leave a Tragick story Thus thus shall Babell fall and none relieve her Thus thus shall Babel sinke Thus sinke for ever And falne she is Thus after-times made good That sacred Prophesie confirm'd in blood Great Royall Dreamer where is now that thing Thou so much vaunted'st of where O soveraigâ—â— King Is that great Babel that was rais'd so high To shew the highnesse of thy Majesty Where is thy Royall off-spring to succeed Thy Throne and to preserve thy Princely seed Till this time Sleeping how could'st thou foreâ—â—â— That thing which waking thou thoghtst ne'r would beâ— And thou Belshazzar full of youthfull fire Vnlucky Grand-child to a lucklesse Syre On thee the sacred Oracles attended For with thy life great Babels Kingdome ended What made thy Spirit tremble and thy hayre Bolt up what made thee fainting gaspe for ayre A simple Word upon a painted Wall What 's that to thee If ought what harme at all Could words affright thee O preposterous wit To feare the writing not the hand that writ The Hand that writ it selfe unseene did shroud Within the gloomy bosome of a Cloud The Hand that writ was bent nor bent in vaine To part the Kingdome and the King in twaine The Hand that writ did write the sentence downe And now stands armed to depose the Crowne The hand that writ did threaten to translate Thy Kingdome Babel to the Persian state Th' effect whereof did brooke no long delayes For when Belshazzar had spun out his dayes Soone cut by that Avengers fatall knife Proud Babels Empire ended with his life As when that rare Arabian Bird doth rest Her bedrid carkase in her Spicy nest The quick-devouring fire of heaven consumes The willing sacrifice in sweet perfumes From whose sad cinders balm'd in fun'rall spices A second Phoenix like the first arises So from the Ruines of great Babels Seat The Medes and Persians Monarchy grew great For when Belshazzar last of Babels Kings Yeelded to death the summe of mortall things Like earth-amazing thunder from above And lightnng from the house of angry Iove Or like to billowes in th' Euboean Seas Whose swelling nought but shipwrack can appease So bravely came the fierce Darius on Marching with Cyrus into Babylon Two Armies Royall stoutly following The one was Medes the other Persia's King As when the Harvester with bubling brow Reaping the intrest of his painfull Plough With crooked Sickle now a shock doth sheare A handfull here and then a handfull there Not leaving till he nought but stubble leave Here lies a new falne ranke and there a sheave Even so the Persian Host it selfe bestur'd So fell great Babel by the Persian Sword Which warm with slaughter with blood imbru'd Ne'r sheath'd till wounded Babel fell subdu'd But see These brave Ioynt-tenants that surviv'd To see a little world of men unliv'd Must now be parted Great Darius dyes And Cyrus shares alone the new-got prize He fights for Heaven Heavens foemen he subdues He builds the Temple he restores the Iewes By him was Zedechias force disjoynted Vnknowne to God he was yet Gods Anointed But
on his fainting head He strowed Dust and from his showring eyes Ran floods of sorrow and with bitter cryes His griefe saluted heaven his groanes did borrow No Art to draw the true pourtraict of sorrow Nor yet within his troubled brest alone Too small a stage for griefe to trample on Did Tyrant sorrow act her lively Sceane But did inlarge such griefe admits no meane The lawlesse limits of her Theater i th' hearts of all the Iewish Nation where With no dissembled Action she exprest The lively Passion of a pensive brest Forthwith he posteth to the Palace gate T' acquaint Queene Ester with his sad estate But found no entrance for the Persian Court Gave welcome to delights and youthly sport To jolly mirth and such delightfull things Soft rayment best befits the Courts of Kings There lyes no welcome for a whining face A mourning habit suits no Princely Place Which when the Maids and Eunuchs of the Queen Vnable of themselves to helpe had seene Their Royall Mistresse straight they did acquaint With the dumb-shew of her sad Cousins plaint Whereat till now a stranger to the cause Perplext and forced by the tender Lawes Of deare affection her gentle heart Did sympathize with his conceived smart She sent him change of rayment to put on To vaile his griefe But he received none Then sore dismai'd impatient to forbeare The knowledge of the thing she fear'd to heare She sent her servant to him to importune What sudden Chance or what disast'rous fortune Had caus'd this strange and ill-apparell'd griefe That she if in her lyes may send reliefe To whom his sorrowes made this sad Relation And this the tenor of his Declaration Hamans that cursed Hamans haughty pride Because my 〈◊〉 deservedly denyde To make 〈◊〉 Idoll of his greatnesse hath Incenst the fury of his jealous wrath And profer'd lavish bribes to buy the blood Of me and all the faithfull Iewish brood In here the copy granted by the King Sul'd in his name confirmed with his Ring 〈◊〉 of the which into his hands 〈◊〉 Haman hath ingrost our lives our lands 〈◊〉 tell the Queene it resteth in her powers To helpe the case is â—ers as well as Ours 〈◊〉 tell my cousin Queene it is her charge To use the meanes whereby she may inlarge Hâ—â— aged kinsmans life and all her Nation Preferring to the King her supplication Meditat. 9. WHo hopes t' attain the sweet Elysian Layes To reap the harvest of his wel-spent daies Must passe the joylesse streames of Acaron The scorching waves of burning Phlegeton And sable billowes of the Stygian Lake Thus sweet with sowre each mortall must partake What joyfull Harvester did ere obtaine The sweet fruition of his hopefull gaine Vntill his hardy labours first had past The Summers heat and stormy Winters blast A sable night returnes a shining morrow And dayes of joy ensue sad nights of sorrow The way to blisse lyes not on beds of Downe And he that had no Crosse deserves no Crowne There 's but one Heav'n one place of perfect ease In man it lies to take it where he please Above or here below And few men doe Injoy the one and tast the other too Sweating and constant labour wins the Goale Of Rest Afflictions clarifie the soule And like hard Masters give more hard directionâ— Tut'ring the nonage of uncurb'd affections Wisedome the Antidote of sad despayre Makes sharpe Afflictions seeme not as they are Through patient sufferance and doth apprehend Not as they seeming are but as they end To beare Affliction with a bended brow Or stubborne heart is but to disallow The speedy meanes to health salve heales no sore If mis-apply'd but makes the griefe the more Who sends Affliction sends an end and He Best knows what 's best for him what 's best for me 'T is not for me to carve me where I like Him pleases when he list to stroke or strike I le neither wish nor yet avoid Tentation But still expect it and make preparation If he thinke best my Faith shall not be tryde Lord keep me spotless from presumptuous pride If otherwise with tryall give me care By thankfull patience to prevent Despaire Fit me to beare what e're thou shalt assigne I kisse the Rod because the Rod is thine How-ere let me not boast nor yet repine With tryall or without Lord make me thinâ— THE ARGVMENT Her ayd implor'd the Queene refuses To helpe them and her selfe excuses But urg'd by Mordecai consents To die or crosse their foes intents Sect. 10. NOw when the servant had returrn'd the words Of wretched Mordecai like pointed swords They neere impierc't Queene Esters tender heart That well could pity but no helpe impart â—allac'd with griefe and with the burthen foyld Like Ordnance over-charg'd she thus recoyl'd Gâ—â— Hatach tell my wretched kinsman thus The case concernes not you alone but us 〈◊〉 the subject of proud Hamans hate As well as you our life is pointed at As well as yours or as the meanest Iew Nâ—â— can I helpe my selfe nor them nor you You know the Custome of the Persian State No King may breake no subject violate How may I then presume to make accesse â—â—fore th' offended King or rudely presse Vâ—call'd into his presence How can I Expect my suit and have deserâ—'d to dye May my desiers hope to find successe When to â—ffect them I the Law transgresse Thâ—se thirty dayes uncall'd for have I bin 〈◊〉 my Lord How dare I now goe in Gâ—â— Hatach aâ—d returne this heavy newes 〈…〉 the truth of my vnforc'd excuse Whereof when Mordecai was full possest His troubled Soule he boldly thus exprest Goe tell the fearfull Queene too great 's her feare Too small her zeale her life she rates too deare How poore's th' adventure to ingage thy blood To save thy peoples life and Churches good To what advantage canst thou more expose Thy life than this Th' ast but a life to lose Thinke not thy Greatnesse can excuse our death Or save thy life thy life is but a breath As well as ours Great Queene thou hop'st in raine In saving of a life a life to gaine Who knowes if God on purpose did intend Thy high preferment for this happy end If at this needfull time thou spare to speake Our speedy helpe shall like the morning breake From heaven together with thy woes and he That succours us shall heape his plagues on thee Which when Queen Ester had right well perus'd And on each wounding word had sadly mus'd Startled with zeale not daring to deny She rouz'd her faith and sent this meeke reply Since heaven it is endowes each enterprize With good successe and onely in us lies To plant and water let us first obtaine Heavens high assistance lest the worke be vaine Let all the Iewes in Susa summon'd â—e And keepe a solemne three dayes Fast and we With all our servants and our maiden traine Shall fast as long and from our thoughts abstaine Then to the King
and kisse your neighb'ring floods Let peace and love exalt your key of mirth For now there 's peace in heav'n there 's peace on earth You holy Temples of the highest Kingâ— Triumph with joy Your sacred Anthemes sing Chant forth your Hymns heav'nly roundelaies And touch your Organs on their louder keyes For Haman's dead that daÌ„ted al your myrth And now there 's peace in heav'n there 's peace on earth Proud Haman's dead whose life disturb'd thy rest Who sought to cut and seare thy Lilly brest The rav'nous Fox that did annoyance bring Vnto the Vineyard â—s taken in a Spring ¶ Seem'd not thy Spouse unkind to hear thee weep And not redresse thee Seem'd he not asleepe No Sion no he heard thy bitter pray'r But let thee weepe for weeping makes thee faire The morning Sun reflects and shines most bright When Pilgrims grope in darknesse all the night The Church must conquer e're she gets he prize But there 's no conquest where 's no enemies The day is thine In triumph make thy mirth For now there 's peace in heav'n there 's peace on earth What man 's so dull or in his brains undone To say because he sees not There 's no Sun Weake is the faith upon a sudden griefe That sayes because not now There 's no reliefe God's bound to helpe but loves to see men sue Though datelesse yet the bond 's not present due ¶ Like to the sorrowes of our child-bed wives Is the sad pilgrimage of humane lives But when by throes God sends a joyfull birth Then find we peace in heav'n peace on earthâ— THE ARGVMENT Vpon the Queene and Mordecai Dead Hamans wealth and dignity The King bestowes to their discretion Referres the Iewes decreed oppression Sect. 15. THat very day the King did freely adde More bounty to his gift What Haman had Borrow'd of smiling Fortune he repaid To Esters hand and to her use convaid And Mordecai found favour with the King Vpon his hand he put his Royall Ring Whose Princely pow'r proud Haman did abuse In late betraying of the guiltlesse Iewes For now had Ester to the King descry'd Her Iewish kin how neere she was ally'd To Mardocheus whom her father dead His love did foster in her fathers ' stead Once more the Queene prefers an earnest suit Her humble body lowly prostitute Before his Royall feet her cheekes o'reflowne With marish teares and thus her plain'full mone Commix't with bitter singults she exprest If in he Cabin of thy Prinâ—ely brest Thy loyall servant undeserv'd hath found A plâ—ce wherein her wishes might be crown'd With faire successe If in thy gracious â—ight I pleasing or my cause seeme just and right Be speedy letters written to reverse Those bloody Writs which Haman did disperse Throughout thy Provinces whose sad content Was the subversion of my innocent And faithfull people Helpe my gracious Lord The time 's prefixt wherein th' impartiall Sword Must make this massacre the day 's at hand Vnlesse thy speedy Grace send countermand How can I brooke within my tender brest To breake the bonds of Natures high behest And see my peoplâ— for whose sake I breath Like stalled Oxen bought and sould for death How can I see such mischiefe how can I Survive to see my kin and people dye Said then the King Lo cursed Haman hath The execution of our highest wrath The equall hire of his malicious pride His welth to thee I gave my fairest Bride His honour better plac'd I have bestow'd On him to whom my borrow'd life hath owâ—d Her five yeares breath the trusty Mordecai Our loyall kinsman Let his hand pourtray Our pleasure as best liketh him and thâ—e Let him set downe and be it our Dâ—cree Let him confirme it with our Royall Ring And we shall signe it with the name of King For none may alter or reverse the same That 's seal'd and written in our Princely name Medita 15. TO breathe 's a necessary gift of nature Whereby we may discerne a living Creature From plants or stones 'T is but a meere degree From Vegetation and this hath shee Like equally shar'd out to brutish beasts With man who lesse observes her due behests Sometimes than they and oft by accident Doe lesse improve the gift in the event But man whose organs are more fairely drest To entertaine a farre more noble Guest Hath through the excellence of his Creation A Soule Divine Divine by inspiration Divine through likenesse to that pow'r Divine That made and plac'd her in her fleshly shrine From hence we challenge lifes prerogative Beasts onely breath 'T is man alone doth live One end of mans Creation was Societie Mutuall Communion and friendly Piety The man that lives unto himselfe alone Subsists and breaths but lives not Never one Deserv'd the moity of himselfe for hee That 's borne may challenge but one part of three Triparted thus his Country clames the best The next his Parents and himselfe the least He husbands best his life that freely gives It for the publike good he rightly lives That nobly dyes 't is greatest mastery Not to be fond to live nor feare to dye On just occasion He that in case despises Life earnes it best but he that over-prizes His dearest blood when honour bids him die Steales but a life and lives by Robbery ¶ O sweet Redeemer of the world whose death Deserv'd a world of lives Had Thy deare breath Beone deare to Thee Oh had'st Thou but deny'd Thy precious Blood the world for e'r had dy'd O spoile my life when I desire to save it By keeping it from Thee that freely gave it THE ARGVMENT Letters are sent by Mordecai That all the Iewes upon the day Appointed for their death withstand The fury of their â—oe-mens hand Sect. 16. FOrthwith the scribes were summon'd to appear To ev'ry Province and to ev'ry Shire Letters they wrote as Mordecai directed To all the Iewes the Iewes so much dejected To all Liev-tenants Captains of the Band To all the States and Princes of the Land According to the phrase and divers fashion Of Dialect and speech of ev'ry Nation All which was stiled in the name of King Sign'd with his hand seal'd with his Royall Ring Loe here the tenour of the Kings Commission Whereas of late at Hamans urg'd petition Decrees were sent and spred throughout the Land To spoile the Iewes and with impartiall hand Vpon a day prefixt to kill and slay We likewise grant upon that very day Full power to the Iewes to make defence And quit their lives and for a Recompence To take the spoiles of those they shall suppresse Shewing like mercy to the mercilesse By posts as swift as Time was this Decree Commanded forth As fast as Day they flee Spurr'd on and hast'ned with the Kings Command Which straight was noys'd publisht through the Land As warning to the Iewes to make provision To entertaine so great an opposition So Mordecai disburthned of his griefe Which now found
strength nor undermining sleight Prevailes where heav'ns ingaged in the fight ¶ Me list not ramble into antique dayes To manne his theame lest while Vlysses strayes His heart forget his home Penelope Our prosp'rous Brittaine makes sufficient Plea To prove her blisse and heav'ns protecting power Which had she mist her glory in an hower Had falne to Cinders and had past away Like smoke before the winde Which happy Day Let none but base-bred Rebels ever faile To consecrate and let this Age entaile Vpon succeeding times Eternity Heav'ns highest love in that dayes memory THE ARGVMENT The sonnes of Haman that were slaine Are all hang'd up The Iewes obtaine Freedome to fight the morrow after They put three hundred more to slaughter Sect. 18. WHen as the fame of that dayes bloody newes Came to the King he said Behold the Iewes Have wonne the day and in their just defence Hâ—â—e made their wrong a rightfull recompence Five hundred men in Susan they have staine And that remainder of proud Hamans straine Their hands have rooted out Queene Ester say What further suit wherâ—in Assuerus may Expresse the bounty of his Royall hand Resâ—s in thy bosome What is thy demand Said then the Queene If in thy Princely sight My boone be pleasing or thou take delight To graâ—t thy servants suit Let that Commission Which gave the Iewes this happy dayes permission To save their lives to morrow stand in force For their behalâ—es that onely make recourse To God and thee and let that cursed brood The sonnes of Haman that in guilty blood Lye all ingoar'd unfit to taint a Grave Behang'd on Gibbets and like co-â—eires have Like equall shares of that deserved shame Their wretched father purchas'd in his name 〈◊〉 The King was pleas'd and the Decree was giv'n From Susan where betwixt the earth and Heaven Most undeserving to be own'd by either These cursed ten like twins were borne together When Titan ready for his journall chase Had rouz'd his dewy locks and Rosie face Inricht with morning beauty up arose The Iewes in Susan and their bloody blowes So roughly dealt that in that dismall day A lease of hundreds fell but on the prey No hand was laid so sweet and jolly rest The Iewes enjoy'd and with a solemne Feast Like joyfull Victors dispossest of sorrow They consecrated the ensuing morrow And in the Provinces throughout the Land Before their mighty and victorious hand Fell more than seventy thousand but the prey They seiz'd not and in mem'ry of that day They solemnized their victorious Guests With gifts and triumphs and with holy Feasts Medit. 18. THe Doctrine of the Schoole of Grace dissents From Natures more uncertaine rudiments And are as much contrayr and opposite As Yea and Nay or blacke and purest white For nature teaches first to understand And then beleeve but Grace doth first command Man to beleeve and then to comprehend Faith is of things unknowne and must intend And soare above conceit What we conceive We stand possest of and already have But faith beholds such things as yet we have not Which eye sees not eare heares not heart conceives not Hereon as on her ground-worke our salvation Erects her pillars From this firme foundation Our soules mount up the new Ierusalem To take possession of her Diad eme God loves no sophistry Who argues least In graces Schoole concludes and argues best A womans Logicke passes there For 't is Good proofe to say 'T is so because it is Had Abraham adviz'd with flesh and blood Bad had his faith beene though his reasons good If God bid doe for man to urge a Why Is but in better language a deny The fleshly ballances of our conceits Have neither equall poysure nor just weights To weigh without impeachment Gods designe There 's no proporâ—ion betwixt things Divine And mortall Lively faith may not depend Either upon th' occasion or the end ¶ The glorious Suns reflected beames suffice To lend a luster to the feeblest eyes But if the Eye too covetous of the light Boldly out-face the Sun whose beames so bright And undispers'd are too-too much refin'd For view is it not justly strucken blind I dare not taske stout Samson for his death Nor wandring Ionah that bequeath'd his breath To raging Seas when God commanded so Nor thee great Queene whose lips did overflow With streames of blood nor thee O cruell kind To quench the fâ—er of a womans mind â—ith flowing rivers of thy subjects blood â—rom bad beginnings God creates a good 〈◊〉 happy end What I cannot conceive â—â—â—d let my soule admier and beleeve THE ARGVMENT The Feast of Purim consecrated Th' occasion why 't was celebrated Letters were writ by Mordecai To keepe the mem'ry of that Day Sect. 19. SO Mardocheus throughout all the Land Dispers'd his Letters with a strickt command To celebrate these two dayes memory With Feasts and gifts and yeerely jollity That after ages may record that day And keepe it from the rust of time â— that they Which shall succeed may ground their holy mirth Vpon the joyes those happy dayes brought forth Which chang'd their sadnes and black nights of sorrow Into the brightnesse of a gladsome morrow Whereto the Iews to whom these letters came Gave due observance and did soone proclame Their sacred Festivalls in memory Of that dayes joy and joyfull victory And since the Lots â— that Haman did abuse To know the dismall day which to the Iewes Might fall most fatall and to his intent Least unpropitious â— were in th' event Crost with a higher Fate than blinded Chance To worke his ruine their deliverance They therefore in remembrance of the Lot Whose hop'd-for sad event succeeded not The solemne feasts of Purim did invest And by the name of Purim call'd their Feast Which to observe with sacred Complement And ceremoniall rites their soules indent And firmly ' inroll the happy memory i th' hearts of their succeeding Progeny That time the enemy of mortall things May not with hov'ring of his nimble wings Beat downe the deare memoriall of that time But keepe it flowring in perpetuall prime Now lest this shining day in times progresse Perchance be clouded with forgetfulnesse Or lest the gauled Persians should debate The bloody slaughter and re-ulcerate In after-dayes their former misery And blurre the glory of this dayes memory The Queene and Mordeâ—ai sent Letters out Into the Land dispersed round about To re-confirme and fully ratifie This feast of Purim to eternity That it to after-ages may appeare When sinners bend their hearts heav'n bowes his eare Medit. 19. ANd are the Lawes of God defective then Or was the Paper scant or dull the Pen That wrote those sacred lines Could imperfection Lurk closly there where heav'n hath giv'n direction How comes it then new feasts are celebrated Vnmention'd in the Law and uncreated By him that made the Law compleat and just Not to be chang'd as brain-sicke mortalls lust Is â—ot heavens deepest curse with death
it lighter 'T is a Gold Chain links soule and soule together In perfect Vnity tyes God to either Affliction is the touch whereby we prove Whether 't be Gold or gilt with fained Love The wisest Moralist that ever div'd Into the depth of Natures bowels striv'd With th' Augur of Experience to bore Mens hearts so farre till he had found the Ore Of Friendship but despairing of his end My friends said he there is no perfect Friend Friendship 's like Musicke two strings tun'd alike Will both stirre though but onely one you strike It is the quintessence of all perfection Extracted into one A sweet connexion Of all the Vertues Morall and Divine Abstracted into one It is a Mine Whose nature is not rich unlesse in making The state of others wealthy by partaking It bloomes and blossomes both in Sun and shade Doth like the Bay in winter never fade It loveth all and yet suspecteth none Is provident yet seeketh not her owne 'T is rare it selfe yet maketh all things common And is judicious yet it judgeth no man The noble Theban being asked which Of three propounded he suppos'd most rich In vertues sacred treasure thus reply'd Till they be dead that doubt cannot be tryde It is no wisemâ—ns part to weigh a Friend Without the glosse and goodnesse of his End For Life without the death considered can Afford but halfe a Story of the Man 'T is not my friends affliction that shall make Me either Wonder Censure or Forsake Iudgement belongs to Fooles enough that I Find he 's afflicted not enquier why It is the hand of Heaven that selfe-same sorrow Grieves him to day may make me grone to morrow Heaven be my comfort In my highest griefe I will not trust to Mans but Thy reliefe THE ARGVMENT Iob counts his sorrowes and from thence Excuses his impatience Describes the shortnesse of Mans Time And makes confession of his Crime Sect. 8. BVt wretched Iob sigh't forth these words said Ah me that my Impatience were weigh'd With all my Sorrowes by an equall hand They would be found more pondrous then the sand That lies upon the new-forsaken shore My griefes want utterance haue stopt their dore And woÌ„der not heav'ns shafts have struck me dead And God hath heapt all mischiefes on my head Will Asses bray when they have grasse to eate Or lowes the Oxe when as hee wants no meat Can palates finde a relish in distast Or can the whites of Egges well please the tast My vexed soule is dayly fed with such Corruptions as my hands disdaine to touch Alas that Heav'n would heare my hearts request And strike me dead that I may find some rest What hopes have I to see my end of griefe And to what end should I prolong my life Why should not I wish Death My strength alas Is it like Marble or my flesh like Brasse What power have I to mitigate my paine If e're I had that power now is vaine My friends are like the Rivers that are dry In heat of Summer when necessity Requireth water They amazed stand To see my griefe but lend no helping hand Friends beg I succour from you Craved I Your Goods to ransome my Captivity Shew me my faults and wherein I did wrong My Patience and I will hold my tongue The force of reasonable words may moove But what can Rage or Lunacie reproove Rebuke you then my words to have it thought My speech is franticke with my griefe distraught You take a pleasure in your friends distresse That is more wretched than the fatherlesse Behold these sores Be judg'd by your owne eyes If these be counterfeited miseries Ballance my words and you shall finde me free From these foule crimes wherewith ye branded me And that my speech was not distain'd with sin Onely the language sorrow treated in Is not mans day prefixt which when expir'd Sleepes â—e not quiet as a servant hir'd A servants labour doth at length surcease His Day of travell findes a Night of peace But wretched I with woes am still oprest My mid-day torments see no Even of Rest My nights ordain'd for sleep are fill'd with griefe I looke in vaine for the next dayes reliefe With dust and wormes my flesh is hid my sorrowes Have plow'd my skin and filth lyes in her furrows My dayes of ioy are in a moment gone And hopelesse of returning spent and done Remember Lord my life is but a puffe I but a man that 's misery enough And when pale death hath once seald up my sight I ne're shall see the pleasures of the light The eye of Man shall not discover me No nor thine Lord for I shall cease to be When mortalls dye they passe like clouds before The Sun and backe returne they never more T' his earthly house he ne're shall come agin And then shall be as if he ne're had bin Therfore my tongue shal speak while it hath breath Prompted with griefe and with the pangs of death Am I not weake and faint what needst thou stretch Thy direfull hand upon so poore a wretch When as I thinke that night shall stop the streames Of my distress thou frightst me then with dreams So that my soule doth rather choose to dye Than be involved in such misery My life 's a burthen and will end O grieve No longer him that would no longer live Ah! what is Man thaâ— thou should'st raise him so High at the first then sinke him downe so low What 's man thy glory 's great enough without him Why dost thou thus disturb thy mind about him Lord I have sinn'd Great Helper of Mankind I am but Dust and Ashes I have sinn'd Against theâ— as a marke why hast thou fixt me How have I trespast that thou thus afflict'st mo Why rather didst thou not remoue my sin And salve the sorrowes that I raved in For thou hast heapt such vengeance on my head That when thou seekst me thou wilt find me dead Meditat. 8. TH'Egyptians amidst their sollemne Feasts Vsed to welcome and present their Guests With the sad sight of Mans Anatomy Serv'd in with this loud Motto All must dye Fooles often goe about when as they may Take better vantage of a neerer way Looke well into your bosomes doe not flatter Your knowne infirmities Behold what matter Your flesh was made of Man cast back thine eye Vpon the weaknesse of thine Infancye See how thy lips hang on thy mothers Brest Bawling for helpe more helplesse then a Beast Liv'st thou to childhood then behold what toies Doe mocke the sense how shallow are thy joyes Com'st thou to downy yeares see how deceits Gull thee with golden fruit and with false baits Slily beguile the prime of thy affection Art thou attain'd at length to full perfection Of ripened yeares Ambition hath now sent Thee on her frothy errand Discontent Payes thee thy wages Doe thy grizly haires Begin to cast account of many cares Vpon thy head The sacred lust of gold Now fits
should stand As lyable to a severer hand Fond soule beware who e're thou art that spies Anothers fault that thou thine owne chastise Lest like a foolish man thou judge another In those selfe-crimes which in your brest you smotherâ— Who undertakes to dreine his brothers eye Of noisome Humours first must clarifie His owne lest when his brothers blemish is Remov'd he spie a fouler Blame in his It is beyond th' extent of Mans Commission To judge of Man The secret disposition Of Sacred Providence is lockt and seal'd From mans conceit and not to be reveal'd Vntill that Lambe breake ope the Seale and come With life and death to give the world her doome The ground-worke of our faith must not relie On bare Events Peace and Prosperity Are goodly favours but no proper Marke Wherewith God brands his Sheepe No outward barke Secures the body to be sound within The Rich man liv'd in Scarletâ— dyed in Sinne. Behold th' afflicted man affliction moves Compassion but no confusion proves A gloomy Day brings oft a glorious Even The Poore man dy'd with sores and lives in heaveÌ„ To good and bad both fortunes Heaven doth share That both an after-change may hope and feare I 'le hope the best Lord leave the rest to thee Lest while I judge another thou judge me It 's one mans worke to have a serious sight Of his owne sinnes and judge himselfe aright THE ARGVMENT Zophar blames Iob Iob equall makes His wisdome unto theirs He takes In hand to pleade with God and then Describes the fraile estate of men Sect. 10. THen Zophar from deepe silence did awake His words with louder language and bespake Shall Pratlers bee unanswe'rd or shall such Be counted just that speake for babbling much Shal thy words stop our mouths he that hath blamd And scoft at others shall he die unsham'd Our cares have heard thee when thou hast excus'd Thy selfe of evill and thy God accus'd But if thy God should pleade with thee at large thou 'dst reape the sorrows of a double charge Canâ—t thou by deepe inquiry understand The hidden Iustice of th' Almighties hand Heavens large dimensions cannot coÌ„prehend him What e're hee doe what 's he can reprehend him What refuge hast thou then but to present A heart inricht with the sad compliment Of a true convert on thy bended knee Before thy God t' attone thy God and thee Then doubt not but hee 'll reare thee from thy sorrow Disperse thy Clouds and like a shining Morrow Make cleare the Sun-beames of Prosperity And rest thy soule in sweet Security But he whose heart obdur'd in sinne persists His hopes shall vanish as the morning Mists But Iob even as a Ball against the ground Banded with violence did thus rebound You are the onely wisemen in your brests The hidden Magazen of true Wisdome rests Yet though astund with sorrowes doe I know A little and perchance as much as you I 'm scorned of my Friends whose prosprous state Surmises me that have expir'd the date Of earths faire Fortunes to be cast away From heavens regard think none belov'd but they I am despised like a Torch that 's spent Whiles that the wicked blazes in his Tent What have your wisdoms taught me more thaÌ„ that Which birds beasts could they but fpeak would chat Digests the Stomack e're the Pallat tastes O weigh my Words before you judge my case But you referre me to our Fathers dayes To be instructed in their wiser Layes True length of dayes brings Wisdome but I say I have a wiser teacheth me than they For I am taught and tutor'd by that Hand Whose unresisted power doth command The limits of the Earth whose VVisdome schooles And traines the simple makes the learned fooles His hand doth raise the poore deposes Kings On him both Order and the change of things Depend he searches and brings forth the light From out the shadowes and the depth of night All this mine owne Experience hath found true And in all this I know as much as you But you averre If I should plead with God That he would double his severer Rod. Your tongue belies his Iustice you apply Amisse your Med'cine to my Malady In silence you would seeme more wise lesse weake You having spoke now lend me leave to speake Will you doe wrong to doe Gods Iustice right Are you his Counsell Need you helpe to fight His quarrels Or expect you his applause Thus brib'd with selfe-conceit to plead his cause Iudgement 's your Fee when as you take in hand Heavens cause to plead it and not Heav'n coÌ„mand If that the foulnesse of your censures could Not fright you yet me thinks his greatness should Whose Iustice you make Patron of your lies Your slender Maximes and false Forgeries Are substanc't like thedust that flyes besides me Peace then and I will speake what e're betides me My soule is on the rack my tears have drown'd me Yet will I trust my God though God confound me He He 's my Towre of strength No hypocrite Stands unconfounded in his glorious sight Ballance my words I know my case would quit Me from your censures should I argue it Who takes the Plaintifes pleading Come for I Must plead my right or else perforce must die With thee great Lord of Heaven I dare dispute If thou wilt grant me this my double Suit First that thou slake these sorrows that surrouÌ„d me Then that thy burning Face doe not confound me Which granted then take thou thy choyce let me Propound the question or else answer Thee Why dost thou thus pursue me like thy Foe For what great sinne dost thou afflict me so Break'st thou a withred Leafe thy Iustice doth Summe up the reckonings of my sinfull youth Thou keep'st me pris'ner bound in fetters fast And like a thred-bare garment doe I wast Man borne of Woman hath but a short while To live his dayes are fleet and full of toyle Hee 's like a Flower shooting forth and dying His life is as a Shadow swiftly flying Ah! b'ing so poore a thing what needst thou minde him The number of his dayes thou hast confin'd him Then adde not plagues unto his Griefe O give Him peace that hath so small a time to live Tree's that are fell'd may sprout again man never His dayes are numbred and he dyes for ever He 's like a Mist exhaled by the Sunne His dayes once done they are for ever done O that thy Hand would hide me close and cover Me in the Grave till all thy Wrath were over My desperate sorrows hope for no reliefe Yet will I waite my Change My day of griefe Will be exchang'd for an Eternall day Of joy But now thou dost not spare to lay Full heapes of vengeance on my broken soule And writâ—st my sinnes upon an ample scrowle As â—ountaines being shaken fall and Rocks Though firm are worn rent with many knocks So strongest men are batterd with thy strength Loose ground returning to the Ground
O strange Divinity but sung by rote Sweete is the tune but in a wider note The Morall sayes All Wisedome that is given To hood-wink't mortals first proceeds from heaveÌ„ Truth 's errour Wisedom's but wise insolence And light 's but darknesse not deriv'd from thence Wisedom's a straine transcends Morality No Vertu 's absent Wisedome being by Vertue by constant practice is acquir'd This this by sweat unpurchas't is inspir'd The master-piece of knowledge is to know But what is good from what is good in show And there it rests Wisedome proceeds and chuses The seeming evill th' apparent good refuses Knowledge descries alone Wisedome applies That makes some fooles this maketh none but wise The curious hand of knowledge doth but picke â—are simples wisdome pounds them for the sicke In my afflictions knowledge apprehends Who is the Author what the Cause and Ends It findes that Patience is my sad reliefe And that the hand that caus'd can cure my griefe To rest contented here is but to bring Cloudes without raine and heat without a Spring What hope arises hence The Devils doe The very same They know and tremble too But sacred Wisdome doth apply that good Which simple knowledge barely understood Wisedome concludes and in conclusion proves That wheresoever God corrects he loves Wisedome digests what knowledge did but tast That deales in futures this in things are past Wisdome's the Card of knowledge which without That Guide at random's wreck't on every doubt Knowledge when wisdome is too weak to guide her Is like a head-strong horse that throwes the rider Which made that great Philosopher avow He knew so much that he did nothing know Lord give me Wisedome to direct my wayes I beg nor riches nor yet length of dayes O grant thy servant Wisedome and with it I shall receive such knowledge as will fit To serve my turne I wish not Phoebus waine Without his skill to drive it lest I gaine Too deare an Honour Lord I will not stay To picke more Manna then will serve to day THE ARGVMENT Bildad the whil'st he makes a show To strike the wicked gives the blow To Iob Iobs misery and faith Zophar makes good what Bildad saith Sect. 12. SAid Bildad then When will yee bring to end The speeches whereabout ye so contend Waigh eithers words lest ignorant confusion Debarre them of their purposed conclusion We came to comfort fits it then that wee Be thought as beasts or fooles accounted bee But thou Iob like a madman would'st thou force God to desist his order and set course Of Iustice shall the wicked for thy sake That would'st not taste of evill in good partake No no his Lampe shall blaze and dye his strength Shall faile and shall confound it selfe at length He shall be hampred with close hidden snares And dog'd where e're he starts with troops of fears Hunger shall bite destruction shall attend him His skin shall rot the worst of deaths shal end him His feare shall bee a thousand linkt together His branch above his roote beneath shall wither His name shall sleepe in dust in dust decay Odious to all by all men chas't away No Son shall keepe alive his House his Name And none shall thrive that can alliance clame The after-age shall stand amaz'd to heare His fall and they that see 't shall shake for feare Thus stands the state of hâ—m that doth amisse And Iob what other is thy case then this But Iob reply'd how long as with sharp swords Will ye torment me with your pointed words How often have your biting tongues defam'd My simple Innocence and yet unshamâ—d Had I deserv'd these plagues yet let my gâ—iefe Expresse it selfe though it find no reliefe But if you needs must weare your tongues upon me Know 'T is the hand of God hath overthrowne me I roare unheard his hand will not release me The more I grieve the more my griefs oppress me He hath despoyl'd my joyes and goes about My branches being lopt to story the Root His plagues like souldiers trench within my bones My friends my kinred flye me all at once My neighbors my â—amiliars have forgone me My houshold stares with strangers eyes upon me I call my servant but his lips are dumbe I humbly begg his helpe but hee 'l not come My own wife loaths my breath though I did make â—y solemne suit for our dead childrens sake The poor whose wants I have supply'd despise me And he that liv'd within my brest denyes me My bones are hide-bound there cannot be found One piece of skin vnlesse my gums that 's sound Alas complaints are barren shadowes to Expresse or cure the substance of my woe Have pity oh my friends have pitty on me 'T is your Gods hand and mine that lyes upon me Vexe me no more O let your anger be If I have wrong'd you calm'd with what yee see O! that my speeches were ingraven then In Marble Tablets with an yron Pen For sure I am that my Redeemer lives And though pale death consume my flesh and gives My Carkas to the wormes yet am I sure Clad with this self-same flesh but made more pure I shall behold His glory These sad eyes Shall see his Face how-e're my body lyes Mouldred in dust These fleshly eyes that doe Behold these Sores shall see my Maker too Vnequall hearers of unequall griefe Y' are all ingag'd to the selfeâ—same beliefe Know there 's a Iudge whose voyce will be as free To judge your words as you have judged me Said Zophâ—r then I purpos'd to refraine From speaking but thou mov'st me backe againe For having heard thy haughty spirit breake Such hasty termes my spirit bids me speake Hath not the change of Ages and of Climes Taught us as we shall our succeeding times How vain 's the triumph and how short the blaze Wherein the wicked sweeten out their dayes Though for a while his Palmes of glory flourish Yet in conclusion they grow sere and perish His life is like a Dreame that passes o're The eye that saw him ne're shall see him more The Sonne shall flattter whom the Syre opprest And poore he shall returne what he did wrest He shall be bayted with the sinnes that have So smil'd upon his Child-hood to his Grave His plenty purchas 't by oppression shall Be honey tasted but digested Gall It shall not blesse him with prolonged stay But evilly come it soone shall passe away The Man whose griping hath the poore opprest Shall neither thrive in state nor yet find rest In soule nought of his fulnesse shall remaine His greedy Heire shall long expect in vaine Soak't with extorted plenty others shall Squeeze him and leave him dispossest of all And when his joyes doe in their height a bound Vengeance shall strike him groaning to the ground If Swords forbeare to wound him Arrowes shall Returning forth anoynted with his Gall No shade shall hide him and an unblowne Fyer Shall burne both him and his Heav'n like a Cryer
passed on me His Iustice hath no limits is extended Beyond conceit by man vnapprehended Let Heaven be Vmpire and make Arbitration Betwixt my guiltlesse heart and your taxaâ—ion My Embrion thoughts and words are all inroll'd Pure will he find them as refined Gold His steps I followed and uprightly stood His Lawes have been my guide his words my food Hath he but once decreed alas there 's none Can barre for what he wills must needs be done His Will 's a Law If he have doom'd that I Shall still be plagu'd 't is bootlesse to reply Hence comes it that my sore afflicted spright Trembles and stands confounded at his sight His hand hath strucke my spirits in a maze For I can neither end my Griefes nor dayes Why should not times in all things be forbid When to the just their time of sorrow 's hid Some move their Land marks rob their neighbour flocks Others in gage receive the widowes oxe Some grind the poore while others seeke the prey They reape their Harvest beare their graine away Men presse their Oyle they distraine their store And rend the Gleanings from the hungry poore The City roares the blood which they have spent Cryes unreveng'd for equall punishment Early they murther and rob late at night They trade in Darknesse for they hate the Light They sin unpunisht thriving uncontrold And what by force they got by force they hold O friends repeale your words your speeches bring No lawfull issue prove not any thing Your deeper wisedomes argue in effect That God doth or not know or else neglect Conclude with me or prove my words untrue I must be found the lyar or else you Meditat. 13. THe wisest men that Nature ere could boast For secret knowledge of her power were loâ—t Confounded and in deepe amazement stood In the discovery of the Chiefest Good Keenly they hunted beat in every bracke Forwards they went on either hand and backe Return'd they counter but their deep-mouth'd art Thogh often challeng'd sent yet ne're could start In all th' Enclosures of Philosophy That Game from squat they terme Felicity They jangle and their Maximes disagree As many men so many mindes there be One digs to Pluto's Throne thinks there to finde Her Grace rak't up in Gold anothers mind Mounts to the Courts of Kings with plumes of honor And feather'd hopes hopes there to seize upon her A third unlocks the painted Gate of Pleasure And ransacks there to finde this peerlesse Treasure A fourth more sage more wisely melancholy Perswades himselfe her Deity 's too holy For common hands to touch he rather chuses To make a long dayes journey to the Muses To Athens gown'd he goes and from that Schoole Returnes unsped a more instructed foole Where lyes she then Or lyes she any where Honours are bought and sold she rests not there Much lesse in Pleasures hath she her abiding For they are shar'd to Beasts and ever sliding Nor yet in Vertue Vertue 's often poore And crusht with fortune begs from doore to door Nor is she sainted in the Shrine of wealth That makes men slaves is unsecur'd from stealth Conclude we then Felicity confists Not in exteriour Fortunes but her lists Are boundlesse and her large extension Out-runnes the pace of humane apprehension Fortunes are seldome measur'd by desert The fairer face hath oft the fouler heart Sacred Felicity doth ne're extend Beyond it selfe In it all wishes end The swelling of an outward Fortune can Create a prosp'rous not a happy man A peacefull Conscience is the true Content And Wealth is but her golden Ornament I care not so my Kernell relish well How slender be the substance of my shell My heart bâ—ing vertuous let my face be wan I am to God I onely seeme to man THE ARGVMENT Bildad showes mans impurity Iob seâ—teth forth th' Almighties power Pleads still his owne integrity Gods Wisedome no man can discover Sect. 14. SAid Bildad then With whom dost thou contest But with thy Maker that lives ever blest His pow'r is infinite mans light is dimme And knowledge darknesse not deriv'd from him Say then who can be just before him No man Can challenge Purity that 's borne of Woman The greater Torch of heaven in his sight Shall be asham'd and lose his purer light Much lesse can man that is but living Dust And but a â—airer Worme be pure and just Whereat Iob thus Doth heav'ns high judgement stand To be supported by thy weaker hand Wants he thy helpe To whom dost thou extend These these thy lavish lips and to what end No Hee 's Almighty and his Power doth give Each thing his Being and by him they live To him is nothing darke his soveraigne hands Whirle round the restless Orbs his pow'r coÌ„mands The evenâ—pois'd Earth The water-pots of heaven He empties at his pleasure and hath given Appointed lists to keepe the Waters under The trembling skies he strikes amaz'd with thuÌ„der These these the Trophies of his Power be Where is there e're a such a God as He My friends these eares have heard your censures on me And heaveÌ„s sharp haÌ„d doth waigh so hard upon me So languishing in griefe that no defence Seemes to remaine to shield my Innocence Yet while my soule a gaspe of breath affords I 'le not distrust my Maker nor your words Deserve which heaven foâ—fend that ever I Prove true but I 'le plead guiltlesse till I dye While I have breath my pangs shal ne're perswade me To wander and revolt from Him that made me E're such thoughts spring from this confused breâ—t Let death and tortures doe their worst their best What gaines the Hypocrite although the whole Worlds wealth he purchase with the prize on 's soule Will heaven heare the voice of his disease Can he repent and turne when e're he please True God doth sometime plague with open shame The wicked often blurres he forth his Name From out the earth his children shall be slaine And who survive shall beg their bread in vaine What if his gold be heapt the good man shall Possesse it as true Master of it all Like Moths their houses shall they build in doubt And danger every houre to be cast out Besieg'd wiâ—h want their lips make fruitlesse mone Yet wanting succour be reliev'd by none The worme of Conscience shall torment his brest And he shall rore when others be at rest Gods hand shall scourge him that he cannot flie And men shall laugh and hisse to heare him cry The purest metal 's hid within the mould Without is gravell but within is Gold Man digs and in his toile he takes a pleasure He seekes and findes within the turfe the treasure He never rests unsped but underneath He mines and progs though in the fangs of death No secret how obscure soever can Earths bosome smother that 's unfuond by man But the Divine and high Decrees of Heaven What minde can search into No power 's given To mortall man whereby he may
Gods Iudgement stand Since we were both created by one Hand If e're my power wrong'd the Poore mans cause Or to the Widow lengthned out the Lawes If e're alone my lips did taste my bread Or shut my churlish doores the poore unfed Or bent my hand to doe the Orphane wrong Or saw him naked unapparell'd long In heapes of Gold if e're I tooke delight Or gave Heavens worship to the heavenly Light Or e're was flattred by my secret Will or joyed in my Adversaries Ill Let God accurse mee from his glorious Seat And make my plagues if possible more great Oh! That some equall hearer now were by To judge my righteous cause Full sure am I I shall be quitted by th' Almighties hand What therefore if censorious tongues withstand The judgement of my sober Conscience Compose they Ballads on me yet from thence My simple Innocence shall gaine renowne And on my head I 'le weare them as my Crowne To the Almighties care will I reveale My secret wayes to him alone appeale If to conclude the Earth could finde a tongue Tâ—impeach my guiltlesse hands of doing wrong If hidden Wages earn'd with sweat doe lye Rak't in her furrowes let her wombe deny To blesse my Harvest let her better Seeds Be turn'd to Thistles and the rest to Weeds Medita 15. THe man whose soule is undistain'd with Ill Pure from the check of a distempred Will Stands onely free from the distracts of Care And flies a pitch above the reach of Feare His bosome dares the threatning Bow-mans arme His wisedome sees his Courage feares no harme His brest lyes open to the reâ—king Sword The darts of swarthy Maurus can affoord Lesse dread than danger to his well prepar'd And setled minde which standing on her guard Bids Mischiefe doe the worst she can or will For he that does no ill deserves no ill Would any strive with Samson for renowne Whose brawny arme can strike most pillers downe Or try a fall with Angels and prevaile Or with a Hymne unhinge the strongest Iayle Would any from a prâ—â—ner prove a Prince Or with slow speech best Orators convince Preserve he then unstained in his brest A milkeâ—white Conscience let his soule be blest With simple Innocence This seven fold shield No dart shall pierce no sword shall make it yeeld The siâ—ewy Bow and deadly headed Launce Shall breake in shivers and the splinters glaunce Aside returning backe from whence they came And wound their hearts with an eternall shame The just and constant minde that perseveres Vnblemisht with false pleasures never feares The bended threatnings of a Tyrants brow Death neither can disturbe nor change his Vow Well guarded with himselfe he walkes along When most alone he stands a thousand strong Lives he in weale and full Prosperity His wisedome tells him that he lives to dye Is he afflicted Sharpe afflictions give Him hopes of Chang and that hee dyes to live Is he revil'd and scorn'd He sits and smiles Knowing him happy whom the world reviles If Rich he gives the Poore and if he live In poore estate he findes rich friends to give He lives and Angel in a mortall forme And having past the brunt of many a storme At last ariveth at the Haven of Rest Where that just Iudge that rambles in his brest Ioyning with Angels with an Angels voyce Chaunts forth sweet Requieâ—s of Eternall joyes THE ARGVMENT Elihu Iob reproves reproves His Friends alike he pleades the case With Iob in Gods behalfe and moves Him to recant and call for Grace Sect. 16. THus Iob his ill defended Cause adjournes And silence lends free liberty of turnes To his unjust Accusers whose bad cause Hath left them grounded in too large a pause Whereat Elihu a young stander-by Whose modest eares upon their long reply Did wait his angry silence did awake And craving pardon for his Youth bespake Young Standers-by doe oftentimes see more Than elder Gamesters Y' are to blame all foure T'ones cause is bad but with good proofs befriended The others just and good but ill defended Though reason makes the man Heaven makes him wise Wisdome in greatest Clerks not alway lyes Then let your silence give me leave to spend My judgement whilst your heedfull eares attend I have not heard alone but still expected To heare what more your spleenes might have objected Against your wofull Friend but I have found Your reasons built upon a sandy ground Flourish no Flags of Conquest Vnderstand That he 's afflicted by th' Almighties hand He hath not fail'd to crosse your accusations Yet I though not with your â—oule exprobations Will crosse him too I 'me full and I must speake Or like unvented vessels I must breake And with my tongue my heart will be reliev'd That swells with what my patience hath conceiv'd Be none offended for my lips shall tread That ground without respect as Truth shall lead God hates a flattering language then how can I Vnliable to danger flatter any Now Iob to thee I speake O let my Errant Be welcome to thine â—ares for truth 's my warrant They are no slender trifles that I treat But things digested with the sacred heat Of an inspired knowledge 'T is no rash Discharge of wrath nor wits conceited flash I 'le speake and heare thee speake as free for I Will take no vantage of thy Misery Thy tongue did challenge to maintaine thy casâ— With God if he would veile his glorious face Be I the man though clad with clay and dust And mortall like thy selfe that takes the trust To represent his Person Thou dost terme Thy selfe most just and boldly dost affirme That Heaven afflicts thy soul without a reason Ah Iob these very words alone are treason Against th' Almighties will Thou oughtest rather Submit thy passion to him as thy Father Than plead with him as with thy Peere Is he Bound to reveale his secret Will to thee God speaketh oft to man not understood Sometimes in dreames at other times thinkes good To thunder Iudgement in his drowzy eare Sometimes with hard afflictions scourge doth teare His wounded soule which may at length give easâ— Like sharper Physicke to his foule Disease But if like pleasing Iulips he afford The meâ—ke Expounders of his sacred Word With sweet perswasions to recure his griefe How can his sorroâ—es wish more faire Reliefe Ah then his body shall wax young and bright Heavens face that scorcht before shall now delight His tongue with Triumph shall confesse to men I was a Leper but am cleare agen Thus thus that Spring of Mercy oftentimes Doth speak to man that man may speak his crimes Consider Iob my words with judgement weigh Which done if thou hast ought then boldly say If otherwise shame not to hold thy peace And let thy wisedome with my words encrease And you you Wisemen that are silent here Vouchsafe to lend my lips your ripened earâ— Let 's call a parly and the cause decide For Iob pleads guiltlesse and would faine be
try'd Yet hath his boldnesse termâ—d himselfe upright And tax't th' Almighty for not doing right His Innocence with Heaven doth he plead And that unjustly he was punished O Purity by Impudence suborn'd He scorn'd his Maker and is justly scorn'd Farre be it from the heart of man that He Who is all Iustice yet unjust should be Each one shall reape the harvest he hath sowne His meed shall measure what his hands hath done Who is 't can claim the Worlds great Soveraignty Who rais'd the Rafters of the Heavens but He If God should breathe on man or take away The breath he gave him what were man but Clay O let thy heart th' unbridled tongue conuince Say Dare thy lips defame an earthly Prince How darst thou then maligne the King of Kings To whom great Princes are but poorest things He kicks down kingdoms spurns th'emperial crown And with his blast puffes mighty Monarchs down 'T is vaine to strive with him and if he strike Our part 's to beare not fondly to mislike Misconstruing the nature of his drift But husband his corrections to our thrift If he afflict our best is to implore His â—lessing with his Rod and sin no more What if our torments passe the bounds of measure It unbefits our wils to stint his pleasure Iudge then and let th' impartiall world advise How farre poore Iob thy judgement is from wise Nor are these speeches kindled with the fire Of a distempred spleene but with desire T' inrich thy wisdome lest thy fury tye Presumption to thy rash infirmity Meditat. 16. FOr mortals to be borne waxe old and dye Lyes not in Will but bare Necessity Common to beasts which in the selfe degree Hold by the selfe-same Patient even as we But to be wiâ—e is a diviner action Of the discursive Soule a pure abstraction Of all her powers united in the Will Ayming at Good rejecting what is Ill It is an Influence of inspired breath Vnpurchased by birth unlost by death Entail'd to no man no not free to all Yet gently answers to the eager cal Of those that with inflam'd affections seeke Respecting tender youth and age alike In depth of dayes her spirit not alway lyes Yeeres make man Old but heaven returnes him Wise Youths Innocence nor riper ages strength Can challenge her as due Desired length Of dayes produced to decrepit yeeres Fill'd with experience and grizly hayres Can claime no right th' Almighty ne're engages His gifts to times nor is he bound to Ages His quickning Spirit to sucklings oft reveales What to their doting Grandsires he conceales The vertue of his breath can unbenumme The frozen lips and strike the speaker dumme Who put that moving power into his tongue Whose lips did right the chast Susanna's wrong Vpon her wanton false Accusers death What secret fire inflam'd that fainting breath That blasted Pharo Or those ruder tongues That schoold the faithlesse Prophet for the wrongs He did to sacred Iustice matters not How sleight the meane be in it selfe or what In our esteemes so wisedome be the message Embassadours are worthied in th'Embassage God sowes his harvest to his best increase And glorifies himselfe how e're he please Lord if thou wilt for what is hard to thee I may a Factour for thy glory bee Then grant that like a faithfull servant I May render backe thy stocke with Vsury THE ARGVMENT God reapes no gaine by mans best deeds Mans misery from himselfe proceeds Gods Mercy and Iustice are unbounded In workes of Nature man is grounded Sect. 17. ELihu thus his pausing lips againe Disclos'd said rash Ioâ— dost thou maintaine A rightfull cause which in conclusion must A vow thee blamelesse and thy God unjust Thy lawlesse words implying that it can Advantage none to live an upright man My tongue shall schoole thee and thy friends that would Perchance refell thy reasons if they could Behold thy glorious Makers greatnesse see The power of his hand say then can He Be damag'd by thy sinne or can He raise Advantage by the uprightnesse of thy wayes True the afflicted languish oft in griefe And roare to heaven unanswer'd for reliefe Yet is not Heaven unjust for their fond cry Their sinne bewailes not but their misery Cease then to make him guilty of thy crimes And waite his pleasure that 's not bound to times Nor heares vaine words The sorrowes thou art in Are sleight or nothing ballanc'd with thy sin Thy lips accuse thee and thy foolish tongue To right thy selfe hath done th' Almighty wrong Hold back thine answer let thy flowing streame Find passage to surround my fruitfull Theame I 'le raise my thoughts to plead my Makers case And speake as shall befit so high a place Behold th' Almighitie's meeke as well as strong Destroyes the wicked rights the just mans wrong Mounts him to honour If by chance he stray Instructs and shewes him where he lost his way If he returne his blessing shall encrease Crowning his joyes with plenty and sweet peace If not th' intailed sword shall ne're depart His stained house but pierce his hardned heart Ah sinfull Iob these plagues had never bin Had'st thou beene guiltlesse as thou boasts of sin But thy proud lips against their Maker plead And draw downe heapes of vengeance on thy head Looke to thy selfe seek not to understand The secret causes of th' Eternals hand Let wisdome make the best of misery Know who inflicts it aske no reason why He will's beyond thy reach and his Divine And sacred knowledge farre surpasseth thine Ah! rather praise him in his workes that lye Wide open to the world before thine eye His meaner Acts our highest thoughts o'retops He pricks the clouds stils down the raine by drops Who comprehends the lightning or the thunder Who sees who heares theÌ„ unamaz'd with wonder My troubled heart chils in my quivering brest To relish these things and is dispossest Of all her powers who ever heard the voyce Of th' angry heavens unfrighted at the noyse The beast by nature daz'd with sudden dread Seekes out for covert to secure his head If God command the dusky clouds march forth Into a Tempest From the freezing North He beckens Frost and Snow and from the South He bloweth Whirlewinds with his angry Mouth Presumptuous Ioâ— if thou canst not aspire So high to comprehend these things admire Know'st thou the progresse of the rambling clouds From mortal eyes when gloomy darkness shrouds The lamps of heaven know'st thou the reason why Can'st thou unriddle heavens Philosophy Know'st thou th' unconstant nature of the weather Or whence so many Winds proceed and whither Wer 't thou made privy or a standerâ—by When God stretcht forth his spangled Canopy Submit thy selfe and let these secâ—ets teach How farre his Myst'ries doe surmount thy reach For Hee 's Almighty and his sacred will Is just nor renders an unearned ill His workes are objects for no soaring eyes But wheresoe're he lookes he findes none wise Meditat. 17. THe World
Skollops and returne the Shels Our sweet Pomgranats want their silver Bells We take the Gift the hand that did present it We oft reward forget the Friend that sent it A blessing given to those will not disburse Some thanks is little better then a curse Great giver of all blessings thou that art The Lord of Gifts give me a gratefull heart O give me that or keepe thy favours from me I wish no blessings with a Vengeance to me THE ARGVMENT Affrighted Manoah and his Wife Both prostrate on the naked earth Both rise The man despaires of life The woman cheares him Samsons birth Sect. 6. WHen time whose progresse mod'rates and out weares Th' extreamest passions of the highest fears By his benignant power had re-inlarg'd Their captive senses and at length discharg'd Their frighted thoughts the trembling couple rose From their unquiet and disturb'd repose Have you beheld a Tempest how the waves Whose unresisted Tyranny out-braves And threats to grapple with the darkned Skies How like to moving Mountaines they arise From their distempred Ocean and assaile Heav'ns Battlements nay when the windes dâ—e faile To breathe another blast with their owne motion They still are swelling and disturbe the Ocean Even so the Danite and his trembling wife Their yet confused thoughts are still at strife In their perplexed brests which entertain'd Continued feares too strong to be refrain'd Speechlesse they stood till Manoah that brake The silence first disclos'd his lips and spake What strange aspect was this that to our sight Appear'd so terrible and did affright Our scattering thoughts What did our eyes behold I feare our lavish tongues have bin too bold What speeches past betweene us Can'st recall The words we entertain'd the time withall It was no man It was no flesh and blood Me thought mine eares did â—ngle while he stood And commun'd with me At each word be spake Me thouâ—ht my heart recoil'd his voyce did shake My very Soule but when as he became So angry and so dainty of his name O how my wonder-smitteâ— heart began To faile O then I knâ—w it was no man No no It was the face of God Our eyes Have seene his face who ever saw 't but dies We are but dead Death dwells within his eye And we have seen 't and we shall surely die Where to the woman who did either hide Or else had overcome her feares replide Despairing Man take courage and forbeare These false predictions there 's no cause of feare Would Heaven accept our offerings and receive Our holy things and after that bereive His servants of their lives Can he be thus Pleas'd with our offerings unappeas'd with us Hath he not promis'd that the time shall come Wherein the fruits of my restored wombe Shall make thee father to a hopefull Sonne Can Heaven be false Or can these things be done When we are dead No no his holy breath Had spent in vaine if they had meant our death Recall thy needlesse feares Heaven cannot lye Although we saw his face we shall not dye So said they brake off their discourse and went He to the field and she into her Tent Thrice forty dayes not full compleat being come Within th'enclosure of her quickned wombe The Babe began to spring and with his motion Confirm'd the faith and quickned the devotion Of his beleeving parents whose devout And heaven-ascending Orizans no doubt Were turn'd to thanks and heart-rejoycing praise To holy Hymnes and heavenly Roundelaies The childe growes sturdy Every day gives strength Vnto his wombe-fed limmes till at the length Th'apparent mother having past the date Of her accompt does only now awaite The happy houre wherein she may obtaine Her greatest pleasure with her greatest paine When as the faire directresse of the night Had thrice three times repar'd her wained light Her wombe no longer able to retaine So great a guest betraid her to her paine And for the toilsome worke that she had done She found the wages of a new borne Sonne 〈◊〉 she call'd his name the childe encreast And hourely suckt a blessing with the brest Daily his strength did double He began To grow in favour both with God and Man His well attended Infancy was blest With sweetnesse in his Childhood he exprest True seeds of honour and his youth was crown'd With high and brave adventures which renown'd His honour'd name His courage was suppli'd With mighty strength His haughty spirit defide And hoast of men His power had the praise â—ove all that were before or since his dayes And to conclude Heav'n never yet conjoyn'd So strong a body with so stout a minde Meditat. 6. HOw pretious were those blessed dayes wherein Soules never startled at the name of Sin When as the voyce of death had never yet A mouth to open or to clame a debt When bashfull nakednesse forbare to call For needlesse skins to cover shame withall When as the fruit-encreasing earth obay'd The will of Man without the wound of spade Or helpe of Art When he that now remaines A cursed Captive to infernall chaines Sate singing Anthems in the heavenly Quire Among his fellow Angels When the Bryer The fruitlesse Bramble the fast growing weed And downy Thistle had as yet no seed When labour was not knowne and man did eate The earths faire fruits unearned with his sweate When wombs might have conceiv'd without the stain Of sin and brought forth children without paine When Heaven could speak to mans unfrighted eare Without the sense of Sin-begotten feare How golden were those dayes How happy than Was the condition and the State of man But Man obey'd not And his proud desire Cing'd her bold feathers in forbidden fire But Man transgrest And now his freedome feeles A sudden change Sinne followes at his heeles The voice calls Adam But poore Adam flees And trembling hides his face behind the trees The voice whilere that ravisht with delight His joyfull eare does now alas affright His wounded conscience with amaze and wonder And what of late was musicke now is Thunder How have our sinnes abus'd us and betrai'd Our desperate soules What strangenes have they made Betwixt the great Creator and the worke Of his owne hands How closely doe they lurke To our distempred soules and whisper feares And doubts into our frighted hearts and eares Our eyes cannot behold that glorious face Which is all life unruin'd in the place How is our nature chang'd That very breath Which gave us being is become our death Great God! O whither shall poore mortalls flie For comfort If they see thy face they dye And if thy life-restoring count'nance give Thy presence from us then we cannot live How necessary is the ruine than And misery of sin-beguiled Man On what foundation shall his hopes relie See wee thy face or see it not we dye O let thy Word great God instruct the youth And frailty of our faith Thy Word is truth And what our eyes want power to perceive O let our
strange confused humming Not distant farre possest my wondring eare Where guided by the noyse there did appeare A swarme of Bees whose busie labours fill'd The Carkasse of that Lyon which I kill'd With Combes of Honey wherewithall I fed My lips and thine And now my Riddle 's read Medita 12. THe soule of man before the taint of Nature Bore the faire Image of his great Creator His understanding had no cloud His will No crosse That knew no Error This no ill But man transgrest And by his wofull fall Lost that faire Image and that little all Was left was all corrupt His understanding Exchang'd her object Reason left commanding His Memory was depraved and his will Can finde no other subject now but Ill It grew distemperd left the righteous reine Of better Reason and did entertaine The rule of Passion under whose command 〈◊〉 fuffered Ship-wracke upon every Sand Where it should march it evermore retires And what is most forbid it most desires 〈◊〉 makes it see too much and often blinde 〈◊〉 makes it light and waver like the winde 〈◊〉 makes it fierce and studious Anger mad 〈◊〉 makes it carelesse Sorrow dull and sad 〈◊〉 makes it nimble for a needlesse tryall 〈◊〉 makes it too impatient of deniall â—â—eat Lord of humane soules O thou that art The onely true refiner of the heart Those hands created all things perfect good What canst thou now expect of flesh and blood How are our leprous Soules put out of fashion 〈◊〉 are our Wills subjected to our passion How is thy glorious Image soil'd defac'd And stain'd with sinne How are our thoughts displac'd How wav'ring are our hopes turn'd here and there With every blast How carnall is our feare Where needs no feare we start at every shade But feare not where we ought to be affraid Great God! If thou wilt please but to refine Our hearts and reconforme our wils to thine Thou 'lt take a pleasure in us and poore we Should finde as infinite delight in Thee Our doubts would cease our fears would al romove And all our passions would turne Ioy and Love Till then expect for nothing that is good Remember Lord we are but Flesh and Blood THE ARGVMENT The Philistines by her advice expound the Riddle Samson kild Thirty Philistians in a trice forsakes his Bride His Bed's defilde Sect. 13. NO sooner was the Brides attentive eares Resolv'd and pleas'd but her impetuous fears Cals in the Bridemen and to them betraid The secret of the Riddle thus and said 〈◊〉 Sonnes of Thunder T was not the loud noise 〈…〉 provoking threats nor the soft voice 〈…〉 prevailing feares that thus addrest 〈◊〉 â—â—â—lding heart to grant your forc'd request 〈◊〉 language needed not have bin so rough 〈…〉 too much when lesse had bin enough 〈◊〉 speech at first was hony in mine eare 〈…〉 it prov'd a Lyon and did teare 〈◊〉 wounded soule It sought to force me to 〈◊〉 your entreaties wâ—re more apt to doe 〈◊〉 then to keepe your lingring eares no longer 〈◊〉 what ye long to heare Ther 's nothing stronger Then a fierce Lyon Nothing more can greet 〈◊〉 pleased palats with a greater sweet Then Hony But more fully to expound 〈◊〉 a dead Lyon there was Hony found Now when the Sun was welking in the West Whose fall determines both the day and Feast The hopefull Bridegroome he whose smiling brow Assur'd his hopes a speedy Conquest now Even thirsting for victorious Triumph brake The crafty silence of his lips and spake The time is come whose latest hower ends Our nuptiall Feast and fairely recommends The wreathe of Conquest to the victâ—rs brow Say is the Riddle read Expound it now And for your paines these hands shall soone resigne Your conquer'd prize If not The prize is mine With that they join'd their whispring heads and made A Speaker who in louder language said Of all the sweets that ere were knowne There 's none so pleasing be As those rare 〈◊〉 which doe crâ—wne The labour of the Bee Of all the creatures in the field That ever man set eye on There 's none whose power doth not yeeld Vnto the stronger Lyon Whereto th' offended Challenger whose eye Proclaim'd a quicke Revenge made this reply No Hony's sweeter then a womans tongue And when she list Lyons are not so strong How thrice accurs'd are they that doe fulfill The lewd desiers of a womans will How more accurs'd is he that doth impart His bosome-secrets to a womans heart They plead like Angell and like Crocadiles Kill with their teares They murther with their smiles How weake a thing is woman Nay how weake Is senslesse Man that will be urg'd to breake His counsells in her eare that hath no power To make secure a secret for an homer 〈◊〉 Victors no Had not a womans minde 〈◊〉 faithlesse and vnconstant as the winde Mr Riddle had till now a Riddle bin 〈◊〉 might have mus'd and mist and mus'd 〈◊〉 When the next day had heav'd his golden head From the soft pillow of his Sea-greene bed And with his rising glory had possest The spatious borders of th'enlightened East Samson arose and in a rage went downe By heaven directed to a neighbring towne His choller was inflam'd and from his eye The sudden flashes of his wrath did flye Palenesse was in his cheekes and from his breath There flew the fierce Embassadours of death He heav'd his hand and where it fell it flew He spent and still his forces would renew His quick-redoubled blowes fell thick as thunder And whom he tooke alive he tore in sunder His arme nere mist And often at a blow He made a Widow and an Orphane too Here it divides the Father from the child The husband from his Wife there it dispoild The friend on 's friend the Sister of her brother And oft with one man he would thrash another Where never was he made a little flood And where there was no Kin he joyn'd in blood Wherein his ruthlesse hands he did imbrue Thrice ten before he scarce could breath he flue Their upper Garments which he tooke away Were all the spoyles the Victor had that day Wherewith he quit the wagers that he lost Paying Philistians with Philistians cost And thus at length with blood he did asswage 〈◊〉 yet not quench the fier of his rage For now the thought of his disloyall wife In his sad soule renew'd a second strife From whom for feare his fury should recoile He thought most fit t' absent himselfe a while Vnto his fathers Tent he now return'd Where his divided passion rag'd and mourn'd In part he mourned and he rag'd in part To see so faire a face so false a heart But marke the mischiefe that his absence brings His bed's defiled and the nuptiall strings Are stretcht and crackt A second love doth smother The first And she is wedded to another Meditat. 13. WAs this that wombe the Angel did enlarge From barrennesse And gave so strict a charge was this that
labourd in thy Vineyard rooted out So many weeds whose lofty crests did sprout Above thy trodden Vines what shall I dye For want of water thou the fountaine by I know that thou wert here for had'st thou not Supplyde my hand with strength I ne're had got So strange a vict'rie Hath thy servant taken Thy worke in hand and is he now forsaken Hast thou not promis'd that my strengthned hand Shall scourge thy Foe-men and sccure thy Land From slavish bondage will that arme of thine Make me their slave whom thou hast promist mine Bow downe thy eare and heare my needfull crye O quench my thirst great God or else I dye With that the jaw wherewith his arme had laid So many sleeping in the dust obeyde The voice of God and cast a tooth from whence A sudden spring arose whose confluence Of chrystall waters plenteously disburst Their precious streames and so allaid his thurst Meditat. 18. THe jaw bone of an Asse how poore a thing God makes his powerfull Instrument to bring Some honour to his name and to advance His greater glory came this bone by chance To Samsons hand Or could the Army goe No further but must needs expect a foe Iust where his weapon of destruction lay Was there no fitter place for them to stay But even just there How small a thing 't had bin If they had beene so provident to winne The day with ease Had they but taken thence That cursed bone what colour of defence Had Samson found Or how could he withstood The necessary danger of his bloud Where Heav'n doth please to ruine humane wit Must faile and deeper policie must submit There wisdome must be fool'd strength of braine Must worke against it selfe or worke in vaine The tracke that seemes most likely often leads To death and where securitie most pleads There dangers in their fairest shapes appeare And give us not so great a helpe as feare The things we least suspect are often they That most affect our ruine and betray Who would have thought the silly Asses bone Not worth the spurning should have overthrowne So stout a band Heav'n oftentimes thinkes best To overcome the greatest with the least He gaines most glory in things that are most slight And winnes in honour what they want in might Who would have thought that Samsons deadly thurst Should have bin quencht with waters that did burst And flow from that dry bone who would not thinke The thirstie Conquerour for want of drinke Should first have died what mad man could presume So dry a tooth should yeeld so great a Rheume God does not worke like man not is he tyed To outward meanes His pleasure is his guide Not Reason He that is the God of nature Can worke against it He that is Creator Of all things can dispose them to attend His will forgetting their created end Hee whose Almighty power did supply This bone with water made the red Sea dry Great God of nature 'T is as great an ease For thee to alter nature if thou please As to create it Let that hand of thine Shew forth thy powre and please to alter mine My sinnes are open but my sorrow 's hid I cannot drench my couch as David did My braines are marble and my heart is stone O strike mine eyes as thou didst strike that bone THE ARGVMENT He lodgeth with a Harlot Wait Is laid and guardes are pitcht aboutâ— He beeres away the City gate Vpon his shoulders and goes out Sect. 19. THus when victorious Samson had unliv'd This hoast of armed men and had reviv'd His fainting spirits and refresht his tongue With those sweet christal streames that lately spruÌ„g From his neglected weapon he arose Secured from the tyrannie of his Foes By his Heaven-borrowed strength boldly came To a Philistian City knowne by th' name Of Azza where as he was passing by The carelesse Champion cast his wandring eye Vpon a face whose beauty did invite His wanton heart to wonder and delight Her curious haire was crisp'd Her naked brest Was white as Ivory and fairely drest With costly Iewells In her glorious face Nature was hidden and dissembled grace Damaskt her rosie cheekes Her eyes did sparke At every glance like Diamonds in the darke Bold was her brow whose frowne was but a foile To glorifie her better-pleasing smile Her pace was carelesse seeming to discover The passions of a discontented Lover Sometime her opned Casement gives her eye A twinckling passage to the passer by And when her fickle fancy had given ore That place she comes and wantons at the doore There Samson view'd her and his steps could finde No further ground but guided by his minde Cast Anchor there Have thy observing eyes Ere mark'd the Spiders garbe How close she lies Within her curious webbe And by and by How quicke she hastes to her intangled Flie And whispring poyson in her murmuring eares At last she tugges her silent guest and beares His Hampred body to the inner roome Of her obscure and solitary Home Even so this snaring beauty entertaines Our eye-led Samson tampred with the chaines Of her imperious eyes and he that no man Could conquer now lies conquered by a woman Faire was his welcome and as fairely exprest By her delicious language which profest No lesse affection than so sweet a friend Could with her best expressions recommend Into her glorious chamber she directs Her welcome guest and with her faire respects She entertaines him with a bountious kisse She gives him earnest of a greater blisse And with a brazen countenance she brake The way to her unchaste desires and spake Mirrour of mankinde thou selected flowre Of loves faire knot welcome to Flora's howre Cheare up my Love and looke â—pon these cyes Wherein my beauty and thy picture lyes Come take me prisner in thy folded armes And boldly strike up sprightly loves alarmes Vpon these rubey lips and let us trie The sweets of love Here 's none but thee and I My beds are softest downe and purest lawne My sheets my Vallents and my curtaines drawne In gold and silkes of curious diâ— Behold My covrings are of Tap'stry ' inricht with gold Come come and let us take our fill of pleasure My husbands absence lends me dainty leasure To give thee welcome Come let 's spend the night In sweet enjoyment of unknowne delight Her words prevail'd And being both undrest Together went to their defiled rest By this the newes of Samsons being there Possest the City and fill'd every eare His death is plotted And advantage lends New hopes of speed An armed guard attends At every gate that when the breaking day Shall send him forth th' expecting forces may Betray him to his sudden death and so Revenge their kingdomes ruines at a blow But lustfull Samson whose distrustfull eares Kept open house was now possest with feares He heares a whisp'ring and the trampling feet Of people passing in the silent street He whom undaunted courage lately made A
ayre-diuiding plumes She struggles often and she oft presumes To take the sanctuary of the open fields But finding that her hopes are vaine she yeelds Even so poore Samson frighted at the sound That rows'd him from his rest forsook the ground Perceiving the Philistians there at hand To take him pris'ner he began to stand Vpon his wonted Guard His threatning breath Brings forth the prologue to their following death He rowz'd himselfe and like a Lyon shooke His drowzy limmes and with a cloudy looke Fore-telling boystrous and tempestuous weather Defi'd each one defi'd them all together Now when he came to grapple he upheav'd His mighty hand but now alas bereav'd Of wonted power that confounding arme That could no lesse then murther did no harme Blow was exchang'd for blow wound for wound He that of late disdained to give ground Flies backe apace who lately stain'd the field With conquer'd blood does now begin to yeeld He that of late brake twisted Ropes in twaine Is bound with Packthred He that did disdaine To feare the power of an Armed Band Can now walke prisoner in a single hand Thus have the trecherous Philistines betray'd Poore captive Samson Samson now obay'd Those glowing eyes that whirled death about Where ere they view'd their cursed hands put out They led him pris'ner and convai'd him downe 〈◊〉 strong-wall'd d' Azza that Philistiâ—â— towne Those gates his shoulders lately bore away â—â—ere in the common Prison did they lay â—â—stressed Samson who obtain'd no meate 〈◊〉 what he purchas'd with his painfull sweate 〈◊〉 every day they urg'd him to fulfill 〈◊〉 twelve howres taske at the laborious Mill 〈◊〉 when his wasted strength began to tyre â—â—ey'd quicken his bare sides with whips of Wire â—â—ll'd was the towne with Ioy and Triumph All â—rom the high-Prince to th' Cobbler on the stall â—ept holy-day whilest every voice became â—oarse as the Trumpe of newes-divulging fame 〈◊〉 tongues were fill'd with shouts And every eare â—â—as growne impatient of the whisperer 〈◊〉 generall was their Triumph their Applause That children shouted ere they knew a cause The better sort betooke them to their knees Dagon must worship'd be Dagon that frees â—oth Sea and Land Dagon that did subdue 〈◊〉 common â—oe Dagon must have his due Dagon must have his praise must have his prize Dagon must have his holy Sacrifice Dagon has brought to our victorious hand â—roud Samson Dagon has redeem'd our land 〈◊〉 call to Dagon and our Dagon heares 〈◊〉 groanes are 〈◊〉 to holy Dagons eares To Dagon all renowne and Glory be Where is there such another God as Hee Medita 22. HOw is our story chang'd O more then strange Effects of so small time O sudden change Is this that holy Nazarite for whom Heaven shew'd a Miracle on the barren wombe Is this that holy Thing against whose Birth Angels must quit their thrones and visit Earth Is this that blessed Infant that began To grow in favour so with God and man What is this he who strengthn'd by heav'ns hand Was borne a Champion to redeeme the Land Is this the man whose courage did contest With a fierce Lyon grapling brest to brest And in a twinkling tore him quite in sunder Is this that Conquerour whose Arme did thunder Vpon the men of Askalon the power Of whose bent fist slew thirty in an hower Is this that daring Conquerour whose hand Thrasht the proud Philistines in their wasted land And was this He that with the helpe of none Destroy'd a thousand with a silly Bone Or He whose wrists being bound together did Break Cords like flax and double Ropes like thrid Is this the man whose hands unhing'd those Gates And bare them thence with pillars barrs Grates And is he turn'd a Mill-horse now and blinde Must this great Conquerour be forc'd to grinde For bread and water Must this Heroe spend His latter times in drudgery Must he end His weary dayes in darknesse Must his hyer Be knotted cords and torturing whips of wyer â—â—ere heaven withdraws the creaturs power shakes 〈◊〉 miserie 's wanting there where God forsakes 〈◊〉 Samson not abus'd his borrow'd power 〈◊〉 had still remain'd a Conquerour 〈◊〉 Philistins did act his part No doubt 〈◊〉 eyes offended and they pluck'd them out 〈◊〉 will be just He punishes a sin 〈◊〉 in the member that he findes it in â—â—en faithlesse Zacharias did become 〈◊〉 curious his lips were strucken dumbe 〈◊〉 whose lustfull view did overprize â—â—lawfull beautie's punisht in his eyes 〈◊〉 flaming eyes seduc'd his wanton minde 〈◊〉 act a sinne Those eyes are stricken blinde 〈◊〉 beauty he invaded did invade him 〈◊〉 that faire tong that blest him so betraid him 〈◊〉 strength intemperate lust imploy'd so ill 〈◊〉 a dâ—iving the laborious Mill 〈◊〉 naked sides so pleas'd with lusts desire 〈◊〉 now as naked lasht with whips of wire Lord shouldst thou punish every part in me 〈◊〉 does offend what member would be free 〈◊〉 member acts his part They never lin 〈◊〉 they joyne and make a Body ' of fin 〈◊〉 sinne my burthen Let it never please me 〈◊〉 thou hast promis'd when I come to ease me THE ARGVMENT They make a feast And then to crowne Their mirth blind Samson is brought thither He pulls the mighty pillers downe The Building falls All slaine together Sect. 23. THus when the vulgar Triumph which does last But seldome longer then the newes was past And Dagons holy Altars had surecast To breath their idle fumes they call'd a feast A common Feast whose bounty did bewray A common joy to gratulate the day Whereto the Princes vnder whose command Each province was in their diuided land Whereto the Lords Leiutenants and all those To whom the supreme Rulers did repose An under-trust whereto the better sort Of gentry and of Commons did resort With mirth and jolly triumph to allay Their sorrowes and to solemnize the day Into the common Hall they come The Hall Was large and faire Her arched roofe was all Builded with massie stone and over-lai'd With pond'rous Lead Two sturdy Pillers stai'd Her mighty Rafters up whereon relied The weighty burthen of her lofty pride When lusty dyet and the frollicke cup Had rouz'd and rais'd their quickned spirits up 〈◊〉 brave triumphing Bacchus had displaid 〈◊〉 conquering colours in their cheeks they said 〈◊〉 Samson forth He must not worke toâ— day 〈…〉 feast Wee 'l give him leave to play 〈…〉 bravely Does our Mill-horse sweat 〈◊〉 lacke nothing What he wants in meaâ—e 〈◊〉 in lashes He is strong and stout 〈◊〉 his breath can drive the Mill about 〈◊〉 too hard we feare Goe downe and free him 〈◊〉 that his Mistresse Delila would see him 〈◊〉 of him will take our howers short 〈◊〉 him then to make our Honours sport 〈◊〉 proviaâ— some Riddles Let him bring 〈◊〉 of Triumph He that 's blinde may sing 〈◊〉 better boldnesse Bid him never doubt 〈◊〉 What matter though his eyes be out 〈◊〉 dishonour that he cannot see 〈◊〉
the God of Love's as blinde as hee 〈◊〉 that they brought poore Samson to the Hall 〈◊〉 as he past he gropes to finde the wall 〈◊〉 paâ—â— was slow His feet were lifted high 〈◊〉 tongue would taunt him Every scornfull eye 〈◊〉 filld with laughter Some would cry aloud 〈◊〉 in state His Lordship is growne proud 〈◊〉 bid his honour â—asle whilst others cast â—prochfull termes upon him as he past 〈◊〉 would salute him fairely and embrace 〈◊〉 wounded sides then spit upon his face 〈◊〉 would cry For shame for heare t' abuse 〈◊〉 high and great redeemer of the Iewes 〈◊〉 gibe and flout him with their taunts quip◠〈◊〉 others flurt him on the starting lips 〈◊〉 that poore Samson whose abundant griefe 〈…〉 hopes of comfort or reliefe Resolv'd for patience Turning round he made Some shift to feele his Keeper out and said Good Sir my painfull labour in the Mill Hath made me bold although against my will To crave some little rest If you will please To let the Pillour but afford some ease To my worne limmes your mercy should relieve A soule that has no more but thanks to give The keeper yeelded Now the Hall was filld With Princes and their People that beheld Abused Samson whilst the Roofe retain'd A leash of thousands more whose eyes were chainâ—â— To this sad Object with a full delight To see this flesh-and-blood-relenting sight With that the pris'ner turnd himselfe and pray'd So soft that none but heaven could heare and saidâ— My God my God Although my sinnes doe cry For greater vengeance yet thy gratious eye Is full of mercy O remember now The gentle promise and that sacred vow Thou mad'st to faithfull Abram and his seed O heare my wounded soule that has lesse need Of life then mercy Let thy tender eare Make good thy plenteous promise now and heare See how thy cursed enemies prevaile Above my strength Behold how poore and fraile My native power is and wanting thee What is there Oh what is there Lord in me Nor is it I that suffer My desert May challenge greater vengeance if thou wert â—xtreme to punish Lord the wrong is thine The punishment is just and onely mine I am thy Champion Lord It is not me They strike at Through my sides they thrust at thee 〈◊〉 thy Glory 't is their Malice lies 〈◊〉 at that when they put out these eyes 〈◊〉 their blood-bâ—dabl'd hands would flie 〈…〉 thou but cloth'd in flesh as I 〈◊〉 thy wrongs great God O let thy hand 〈◊〉 thy suffring honour and this land 〈◊〉 â—e thy power Renew my wasted strength 〈…〉 fight thy bâ—ttels and at length 〈◊〉 thy glory that my hands may do 〈◊〉 faithfull service they were borne unto 〈…〉 thy power that I may restore 〈◊〉 and I will never urge thee more 〈◊〉 having ended both his armes he laid 〈◊〉 the pillours of the Hall and said 〈◊〉 with the Philistines I resigne my breath 〈◊〉 let my God finde Glory in my death 〈◊〉 having spoke his yeelding body strain'd 〈◊〉 those Marble pillours that sustain'd 〈◊〉 pondrous Roofe They cracket and with their fall 〈◊〉 fell the Battlements and Roofe and all 〈◊〉 with their ruines slaughter'd at a blow 〈◊〉 whole Assembly They that were below 〈◊〉 their sudden deaths from those that fell 〈◊〉 off the top whilst none was left to tell 〈◊〉 horrid shreckes that filld the spatious Hall 〈◊〉 ruines were impartiall and slew all 〈◊〉 fell and with an unexpected blow 〈◊〉 every one his death and buriall too Thus di'd our Samson whose brave death has won 〈◊〉 honour then his honourd life had done 〈◊〉 di'd our Conquerour whose latest breath 〈◊〉 crown'd with Conquest triumph'd over death 〈◊〉 di'd our Sampson whose last drop of blood â—deem'd heavn's glory and his Kingdome 's good Thus di'd heavens Champion and the earths bright Glory The heavenly subject of this sacred Story And thus th' impartiall hand of death that gathers All to the Grave repos'd him with his fathers Whose name shall flourish and be still in prime In spight of ruine or the teeth of Time Whose fame shal last till heaven shal please to free This Earth from Sinne and Time shall cease to be Medita 23. WAges of sinne is death The day must come Wherin the equall hand of death must sum The severall Items of mans fading glory Into the easie totall of one Story The browes that sweat for Kingdomes and renown To glorifie their Temples with a Crowne At length grow cold and leave their honourd name To flourish in th' uncertaine blast of Fame This is the heighth that glorious Mortalls can Attaine This is the highest pitch of Man The quilted Quarters of the Earths great Ball Whose unconfined limits were too small For his extreame Ambition to deserve Six foote of length and three of bredth must serve This is the highest pitch that Man can flie And after all his Triumph he must die Lives he in Wealth Does well deserved store Limit his wish that he can wish no more And does the fairest bounty of encrease Crown him with plenty and his dayes with peaceâ— It is a right hand blessing But supply Of wealth cannot secure him He must die Lives he in Pleasure Does perpetuall mirth 〈◊〉 him a little Heaven upon his earth â—eets he no sullen care no sudden losse 〈◊〉 coole his joyes Breathes hee without a crosse â—ants he no pleasure that his wanton eye 〈◊〉 crave or hope from fortune He must dye 〈◊〉 he in Honour Hath his faire desart â—â—tain'd the freedome of his Princes heart 〈◊〉 may his more familiar hands disburse 〈◊〉 liberall favors from the royall purse 〈◊〉 his Honour cannot soare too high 〈◊〉 palefac'd death to follow He must dye Lives he a Conqu'rour And doth heaven blesse 〈◊〉 heart with spirit that spirit with successe Successe with Glory Glory with a name To live with the Eternitie of Fame The progresse of his lasting fame may vye With time But yet the Conquerour must dye Great and good God Thou Lord of life and deth 〈◊〉 whom the Creature hath his being breath Teach me to underprize this life and I Shall finde my losse the easier when I dye So raise my feeble thoughts and dull desire That when these vaine and weary dayes expire I may discard my flesh with joy and quit My better part of this false earth and it Of some more sinne and for this transitory And tedious life enjoy a life of Glory The end SIONS SONETS Sung By SOLOMON the KING And PERIPHRAS'D By Fra. Quarles LONDON Printed by MILES FLESHER 1632. To the READERS REaders now you have them May the end of my paines be the beginâ—ing of your pleasures Excuse me for â—haring so high else give me leave to excuse my selfe Indeed I flew with Eagles feathers otherwise I had not flowne or falne It is the Song of Songs There present you with The Author King SOLOMON the wisest of Kings The matter mysticall the divinest of subjects
And froÌ„ their ragged wounds they suck forth blood The father dies and leaves his pined Coarse T' inrich his Heire with meat The hungry Nurse Broyles her starv'd suckling on the hastie coales Devoures one halfe and hides the rest in holes O Tyrant Famine that compell'st the Mother To kill one hungry Childe to feed another ELEG 11. LAment O sad Ierusalem lament O weepe if all thy teares be yet unspent Weepe wasted Iudâ—h let no drop be kept Vnshed let not one teare be left unwept For angry heaven hath nothing left undone To bring thy ruines to perfection No curse no plague the fierce Almighty hath Kept backe to summe the totall of his wrath Thy Citie burnes thy Sion is dispoyld Thy Wives are ravisht and thy Maides defil'd Famine at home the Sword abroad destroyes thee Thou cry'st to heav'n heav'n his â—are denies thee ELEG 12. MAy thy dull senses O unhappy Nation Possest with nothing now but desolation Collect their scatter'd forces and behold Thy novell fortunes ballanc'd with the old Couldst thou ô could thy prosp'rous heart coÌ„ceive That mortall powre or art of State could reive Thy ' illustrious Empire of her sacred glory And make her ruines the Threnâ—dian story Of these sad times and ages yet to be Envie could pine but never hope to see Thy buildings crusht and all that glory ended Which Man so fortifyde and Heav'n defended ELEG 13. NE're had the splendor of thy bright renowne Beene thus extinguisht ludah Thy fast Crowne Had ne're beene spurn'd from thy Imperiall brow Plenty had nurs'd thy soule thy peacefull plough Had fill'd thy fruitfull Quarters with encrease Hadst thou but knowne thy selfe and loved peace But thou hast broke that sacred truce concluded Betwixt thy God and thee vainly deluded Thy selfe with thine own strength with deadly feud Thy furious Priests and Prophets have pursude The mourning Saints of Sion and did sâ—ay All such as were more just more pure then they ELEG 14. O How the Priests of Sion whose pure light Should shine to such as grope in Errors night And blaze like Lampâ— before the darkned eye Of Ignorance to raise up those that lie In dull despaire and guide those feet that strey Ay me How blinde how darke how dull are they Fierce rage fury drives them through the street And like to mad men stabbe at all they meet They weare the purple Livery of Death And live themselves by drawing others breath Say wasted Sion could Revenge behold So foule an acted Scene as this and hold ELEG 15. PRophets and sacred Priests whose tongues whilere Did often whisper in th'Eternalls eare Disclos'd his Oracles found ready passage Twixt God and Man to carry heavens Embassage Are now the subjects of deserved scorne Of God forsaken and of man forlorne Accursed Gentiles are asham'd to know What Sions Priests are not asham'd to doe They see and blush and blushing flee away Fearing to touch things so defil'd as they They hate the filth of their abomination And chace them forth from their new conquer'd nation ELEG 16. QVite banisht from the joyes of earth and smiles Of heaven and deeply buried in her spoiles Poore Iudah lies unpitied disrespected Exil'd the World of God of Man rejected Like blasted eares among the fruitfull wheat She roames disperst and hath no certaine seat Her servile neck 's subjected to the yoake Of bondage open to th' impartiall stroake Of conquering Gentiles whose afflicting hand Smites every nooke of her disguised Land Of Youth respectlesse nor regarding Yeeres Nor Sex nor Tribe like scourging Prince Peers ELEG 17. REnt and deposed from Imperiall state â—y heavens high hand on heaven we must await To him that struck our sorrowes must appeale Where heaven hath smitâ— no hand of man can heale In vaine our wounds expected mans reliefe For disappointed hopes renew a griefe Aegypt opprest us in our fathers loynes What hope 's in Aegypt Nay if Aegypt joynes Her force with Iudah our united powres Could nere prevaile 'gainst such a foe as our's Aegypt that once did feele heavens scourge for grieving His flock would now refinde it for reliving ELEG 18. SO the quick-sented Beagles in a view O're hill and dale the fleeing Chase pursue As swift-foot Death and Ruine follow me That flees afraid yet knowes not where to flee Flee to the fields There with the sword I meet And like a Watch Death stands in every street No covert hides from death no Shade no Cells So darke wherein not Death and Horror dwells Our dayes are numbred and our number 's done The empty Houre-glasse of our glorie 's run Our sins are summ'd and so extreame 's the score That heauen could not doe lesse nor hell do more ELEG 19. TO what a downfall are our fortunes come Subjected to the suffrance of a doome Whose lingring torments Hell could not conspire More sharp than which hell needs no other fire How nimble are our Foemen to betray Our soules Eagles are not so swift as they Where shall we flee Or where shall sorrow finde A place for harbour Ah what prosp'rous winde Will lend a gale whose bounty ne're shall cease Till we be landed on the I le of peace My foes more fierce than empty Lions are For hungry Lions woo'd with teares will spare ELEG 20. VSurping Gentiles rudely have engrost Into their hands those fortunes we have lost Devoure the fruits that purer hands did plant Are plump and pampred with that bread we want And what is worse than death a Tyrant treads Vpon our Throne Pagans adorne their heads With our lost crowns their powers have dis-jointed The Members of our State and Heavens Anointed Their hands have crusht ravisht from his throne And made a Slave for Slaves to tread upon Needs must that flock be scattred and accurst where wolves have dar'd to seize the Shepherd first ELEG 21. WAxe fat with laughing Edom with glad eies Behold the fulnesse of our miseries Triumph thou Type of Antichrist and feed Thy soule with joy to see thy brothers â—eed Ruin'd and rent and rooted from the earth Make haste and solace thee with early mirth But there 's a time shall teachâ—thee how to weepe As many teares as I thy lips as deepe Shall drinke in sorrowes Cup as mine have done Till then cheere up thy spirits and laugh on Offended Iustice often strikes by turnes Edom â—eware for thy next neighbour burnes ELEG 22. YE drooping sonnes of Sion O arise And shut the flood-gates of your flowing eyes Surcease your sorrowes and your joyes attend For heaven hath spoke it and your griefes â—â—al end Beleeve it Sion seeke no curious signe And wait heav'ns pleasure as heav'n waited thine And thou triumphing Edâ—m that dost lye In beds of Roses thou whose prosp'rous eye Did smile to see the Gates of Sion fall Shalt be subjected to the selfe-fame thrall Sion that weepes shall smile and Edoms eye That smiles so fast as fast shall shortly cry The Prophet Ieremie his
tempting that no power Was left in thee to stay another hower Or didst thou feed by chance and not observ'd What food it was but tooke as Fortune carv'd 'T is done Be it or Fortunes act or thine It fed the one whose want made Millions pine ELEG 5. ENvie now burst with joy and let thine eyes Strut forth with fatnesse let thy collops rise Pampred and plump Feed full for many yeares Vpon our losse Be drunken with our teares For he is dead whose soule did never cease To crosse and violate your malitious peace He 's dead but in his death hath overthrowne More vices than his happy life had done In life he taught to dye and he did give In death a great example how to live Though he be gone his fame is left behinde Now leave thy laughing Envie and be pin'd ELEG 6. FArewell those eyes whose gentle smiles forsooke No misery taught Charity how to looke Farewell those cheerefull eyes that did e'rewhile Teach succour'd misery how to blesse a smile Farewell those eyes whose mixt aspect of late Did reconcile humility and state Farewell those eyes that to their joyfull guest Proclaim'd their ordinary fare a feast Farewell those eyes the load-stars late whereby The graces â—ail'd secure from eye to eye Farewell deare eyes bright Lamps ô who can tell Your glorious welcome or our sad farewell ELEG 7. GOe glorious Saint I knew 't was not a shrine Of flesh could lodge so pure a soule as thine I saw it labour in a holy scorne Of living dust and ashes to be sworne A heavenly Quirifter It sigh'd and groan'd To be dissolv'd from mortall and enthron'd Among his fellow Angells there to sing Perpetuall Anthems to his heavenly King He was a stranger to his house of Clay Scarce own'd it but that necessary stay Miscall'd it his And onely zeale did make Him love the building for the builders sake ELEG 8. HAd vertue learning the Diviner Arts Wit judgement wisdome or what other parts That make perfection and returne the minde As great as Earth can suffer beene confin'd To earth had they the Patent to abide Secure from change our Ailmer ne're had dy'de Fond earth forbeare and let thy childish eyes Ne're weep for him thou ne're knew'st how to prize Shed not a teare blinde earth for it appeares Thou never lov'dst our Ailmer by thy teares Or if thy flouds must needs oreflow their brim Lament lament thy blindenesse and not him ELEG 9. I Wondred not to heare so brave an end Because I knew who made it could contend With death and conquer and in open chace Would spit defiance in his conquered face And did Dauntlesse he trod him underneath To shew the weaknesse of unarmed death Nay had report or niggard Fame denyde His name it had beene knowne 't was Ailmer dyde It was no wonder to heare rumor tell That he which dyde so oft once dyde so well Great Lord of life how hath thy dying breath Made man whoÌ„ death had conquerd coÌ„quer death ELEG 10. KNowledge the depth of whose unbounded maine Hath bin the wreck of many a curious braine And from her yet unreconciled schooles Hath fill'd us with so many learned fooles Hath tutor'd thee with rules that cannot erre And taught thee how to know thy selfe and her Furnisht thy nimble soule in height of measure With humane riches and divinest treasure From whence as from a sacred spring did flow Fresh Oracles to let the hearer know A way to glory and to let him see The way to glory is to studie thee ELEG 11. LOoke how the body of heavens greater light Inâ—iches each beholder with his bright And glorious rayes untill the envious West Too greedy to enjoy so faire a guest Calls him to bed where ravisht from our sight He leaves us to the solemne frownes of night Even so our Sun in his harmonious spheare Enlightned every eye rapt every eare Till in the earely sunset of his yeares He dyde and left us that survive in teares And like the Sun in spight of death and fate He seemed greatest in his lowest state ELEG 12. MOlest me not full sighes and flowing teares You stormes showres of nature stop your eares Fond flesh and bloud against the strong temptation Of fullen griefe and sense-bereaving passion Cease to lament Let not thy slow pac'd numbers Disturbe his rest that so so sweetly slumbers The child of virtue is asleepe not dead He dies alone whom death hath conquered Why should we shed a teare for him or why Lament we whom we rather should envie He lives he lives a life shall never tast A change so long as Crownes of glory last ELEG 13. NO no he is not dead The mouth of fame Honors shrill Herald would preserve his name And make it live in spight of death and dust Were there no other heaven no other trust He is not dead The sacred Nine deny The soule that merits fame should ever dye He lives and when the latest breath of fame Shall want her Trumpe to glorifie a name He shall survive and these selfe closed eyes That now lie slumbring in the dust shall rise And fill'd with endlesse glory shall enjoy The perfect vision of eternall joy ELEG 14. O But the dregs of flesh and bloud How close They grapple with my soule and interpose Her higher thoughts which yet but young of wing They cause to stoope and strike at every thing Passion presentâ— before their weakned eye Iudgement and better reason standing by I must lament Nature commands it so The more I strive with teares the more they flow These eyes have just nay double cause of mone They weepe the coÌ„mon losse they weep their own He sleepes Indeed then give me leave to weepe Teares fully answerable to his sleepe ELEG 15. PArdon my teares if they be too too free And if thou canst not weepe I 'le pardon thee Dull Stoick If thou laugh to heare his death I 'le weep that thou wert borne to spend that breath Thou dry-brain'd Portick whose Ahenian brest Transcending passion never was opprest With griefe O had your flinty Sect but lost So rare a prize as we lament and boast Your hearts had crost your Tenet and disburst As many drops as we have done or burst No marvell that your marble braines could crosse Her lawes that never gave you such a losse ELEG 16. QVicke-sould Pythagoras O thou that wert So many men and didst so oft revert From shades of death if we may trust to Fame With losse of nothing but thy buried name Hadst thou but liv'd in this our Ailmers time Thou wouldst have dyde once more to live in him Or had our Ailmer in those daies of thine But dyde and left so glorious so divine A soule as his how would thy hasty brâ—st Have gasp'd to entertaine so faire a guest Which if obtained had no doubt supplyde thee With that immortall state thy Sire denyde thee ELEG 17. RAre soule that now sits crowned in